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Innamorato; Passionflower <3
Topic Started: Apr 10 2010, 08:22 PM (2,575 Views)
passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas felt the hand on his waist. It caused his stomach to tighten, though he tried not to read much into it. It was an innocent as the touch he'd given to the blond's shoulder. Nothing wrong with that, right?

A curious look filled the Brit's green eyes as he spied the intriguing desserts the other man had whipped up. He soon took the offered plate, and he looked at the dessert pizza that Sal had cooked up. His eyes flicked up back up to meet Sal's. "Bananas and chocolate are fine by me," he smiled. He was hesitant though, to go back out to the dining room. The box of doom was still sitting out there. And he didn't want a repeat...

So surprisingly, he leaned on the kitchen counter, plate in one hand, and he observed the dessert a moment. The fingers of his free right hand flicked a bit, as if deciding how the hell he should pick it up without getting himself dirty. He finally picked it up, mindful of the chocolate and hazelnut spread, then brought the sweet covered crust to his lips and bit down. Lashes fell over his green eyes, as he tore off his first bite, and chewed slowly. The corners of his mouth slowly upturned. Moments of sadness had been forgotten for now. And the sweet burst of chocolate, hazelnut and banana now filled his mouth.

"Mmm..." he made that sound again, though this time a little shiver ran down his body. Thomas swallowed finally. He stole a glance to Sal, but said nothing, just smiled, and took another bite. If what Sal had said earlier still applied, he'd already told him enough to know he'd succeeded with his dessert.

"I will admit I'm surprised you didn't whip out a tiramisu," he teased, grinning all the way. Had this really been the man who had been crying a few minutes ago? Like night and day, really. Or maybe he was just trying his best to put it behind him and be good company... Something like that, perhaps.

He took a few more bites, though much to the neat fellow's horror, he got some of the chocolate on his fingers. He set the rest of his slice back on the plate. No napkins.. No whipping it on his shirt. He stole a glance to Sal, then looked down to his fingers. Hesitantly he lifted the dirty digit in question to his lips, and he licked the bit of chocolate off as discreetly as he could...
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas was right, the sound was all Sal needed to hear. He watched the man go about trying and enjoying the sweet dessert, only partaking himself when he was satisfied that Thomas was squared away with his piece. The fact that they didn’t go back to the dining room didn’t bother Sal at all, the blond happy to make this a casual and pleasant affair away from the turmoil that had taken place at the table. He leaned on his hip against the counter beside Thomas, body tilted to face the brunet.

He chuckled around a mouthful of chocolaty crust and banana when Thomas brought up tiramisu. He covered his mouth briefly with the back of his hand, attempting to keep what was in his mouth inside. He smirked, licking his lips once he’d swallowed. “Almost did. Figured we’d take this one cliché at a time though; went with the spaghetti and meatball tonight. Plus you got the music.” He winked lightly at the brunet; “I’ll make you tiramisu another night.”

Sal noticed the extreme difference in Thomas now compared to a little while ago, but he didn’t dwell on it or question it at all. He preferred this happy, smiling version of the man. And it helped him, too. He was sensitive to negative emotion and heavy feelings, hence his reluctance to think about certain things or admit his own feelings. Having Thomas teasing and grinning once more distracted him from the negative and pulled him away from it. It was as good for him as he was sure it was good for the brunet.

The smirk on Sal’s lips tugged as he watched the other man. It got wider the longer he watched, splitting into a grin complete with a flash of teeth when Thomas sought something to clean his hands with and came up with no option but his tongue. The effort for discretion over it just filled the blond with tickled amusement.

“Why do you do that?” Sal asked after a beat, nodding at Thomas’ fingers for reference. “You can ease up on the manners here, you know. I’m not gonna kick you out for a burp and licking your fingers. I promise you, you’re allowed to be an imperfect human around me.” He nodded at the other man’s fingers again, smirking still, “Now do it right or I’ll be forced to do it for you.”
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas surprisingly flinched as Sal brought focus to his attempt at cleaning his fingers. He lowered his hand as his brows furrowed a bit. It wasn't like Thomas was attempting to pretend to be someone he wasn't. Manners and the like had been ingrained in him from an early age. If anything it was more unnatural for him to behave 'imperfectly' as Sal had put it.

"... Mother would say the only way to 'properly' clean your fingers is with a napkin," he informed quietly. Not that he was blaming his mother for how uptight he could be at times. He looked at his half licked fingers again as his brows creased in the middle. It was even worse having Sal standing there staring at him as he expected him to 'properly' lick his fingers. Was no proper way to lick your fingers... in Thomas' book.

He finally let out a huff, and he pushed the flesh of one finger past his lips, and suckled on it a bit, tongue lapping at the chocolate covered skin. Cleaned, he did the other that was dirty. Even though there was no more chocolate to be found, they felt... sticky. His green eyes flicked back to Sal then as he quirked a brow. "Happy now?" he mused.

The Brit took another bite then. Chewed. Swallowed. "... I'm gonna have to be careful around you. I'll likely end up turning into a caveman at this rate," he smirked, shaking his head. He'd finished off half of his pizza slice. Besides the finger fiasco, Thomas was pretty immaculate when it came to the chocolate and the rest of his body.

A hint of a smile came back to his lips then, as his green eyes softened in thought. He looked down at the food on his plate. "Thank you for all this. I suppose besides... that bump in the road back there," he gave a faint flick of his head in the direction of the dining room. "Tonight's been great. Really great," he smiled softly. "Very hospitable of you..."
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sal snorted when Thomas explained his mother’s version of properly cleaning dirty fingers. He didn’t say anything though, just fixed a look on the brunet beside him and waited expectantly. Not budging on the matter as he chewed at another bite from his slice. A smirk that had laughter behind it touched his mouth again when Thomas finally licked his fingers clean ‘properly’. “Happy? Oh, very.” He nodded, teasing the other man.

It was quite a sight though, all things considered. Sal’s reaction perhaps not as it should be in response to Thomas sucking and licking his fingers clean. He refused to let himself go there though, deliberately forcing himself to over look the immediate tingle of interest in the pit of his stomach at the sight. Thomas himself helped with the distraction too, with his caveman comment.

He gave the brunet’s shoulder a light shove, “First you call me an illiterate idiot and now you’re sayin’ I’m an influential caveman. Didn’t your mother teach you anythin’ about name callin’ between all those napkin lessons?” He teased the man right back, grumbling good-naturedly and shaking his head.

Finishing his piece, Sal licked his lips and proceeded to lick his own fingertips clean of some chocolate he’d managed to get on them. He looked up and over at Thomas again though when the brunet thanked him. It gave the blond pause for a moment, blue eyes sliding off to the side as he considered his response. He ended up shrugging and quirking a smile at Thomas.

“Food and family,” he explained. “Those are two of the most important things to an Italian. Good food I’ve always got covered and you… you were gonna be family, so you might as well just be. So don’t worry about it.” He slid a hand up to give Thomas’ shoulder a squeeze. He smirked, “Plus it gave me a reason to actually cook somethin' for a change. ‘S pointless to go all out just for yourself…”
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas couldn't help the rye grin that surfaced to his face as Sal informed him he was calling the blond names. "Mm... no one's perfect," he mused quietly. Was he referring to himself or to Sal? He left it open ended.

His gaze softened as Sal went so far as to practically tell him he was... family. It warmed him a bit. Though he had to wonder... how he'd earned such a privilege when he'd only met the man in front of him a few days ago. Ever odder, he felt comfortable with being part of the family. With just about anything to do with Sal. His only thoughts lead back to Paul... His body, mind, heart mistaking this man as some ... pseudo version of his dead lover. And of course he'd been comfortable around Paul...

But he didn't bring that up. Sal had enough to deal with. Besides, he already knew well who's face Thomas tended to see when he looked upon his features. He felt the warm hand on his shoulder, and the Brit smiled a little more. "... Thank you for the warm welcome. And you're welcome to cook for me any time," he chuckled a bit. He wasn't complaining.

His eyes then drifted back to his dessert. He folished it off in a few bites, then he set the plate in the sink. Thomas swiped his tongue over his lips, and took it upon himself to wash their dessert dishes. He dried off his hands, as a few thoughts began to drift within his head. His gaze softened in those moments. Dinner was done. Sal was so laid back he could probably linger around, but in the same vein the Brit didn't want to overstay his welcome. The last thing he needed was Sal finding him to be this needy stranger requiring his time and attention. He didn't want to be perceived that way at all...

"... Later this week," he began, still drying off his hands. "I'm going to be going to Greenwood. You don't have to come with me, but... It'd be nice if you joined me," he informed quietly. Greenwood, the name of the cemetery where Paul Durante was buried. He smiled sadly, then let out a sigh.

"Probably not the happiest outing but..." his voice drifted. It had to be done. He couldn't come to New York and not visit Paul's final resting place.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sal relaxed back against the counter, watching Thomas from the corner of his eye as the Brit went about cleaning their dishes. His arms had since risen to cross comfortably over his chest, hands tucked in under his arms. Full and warm, he was surprisingly content right then. He enjoyed having the brunet around; more so than he’d ever thought possible that first day. It was kind of amazing actually, how upturned and opposite things had turned out compared to his initial impressions and assumptions. For the better, thankfully.

The tension that flashed through his frame at the mention of the local Greenwood cemetery had been totally instinctive and unavoidable. Sal stilled, expression flattening out and eyes fixing on the far wall. Paul was buried there. And… he hadn’t been since the funeral, didn’t really want to go out there again. It dragged up so many thoughts and feelings to the surface… it scared him, in all honesty. Not that he’d admit it to anyone but himself.

But Thomas was asking him to be there. With him. On this endeavor the brunet apparently thought was necessary. Sal worried the soft inside of his bottom lip, flicking minor glances towards the other man at his sink. He swallowed, hands tightening against his ribs until they pinched and ultimately nodded.

“Yah… yah, ok,” he agreed quietly, tone as lowered as Thomas’s had been and just as sober. He peeled a hand from his ribs and scrubbed it against his face, back and forth over his forehead and into the bridge of his nose. “I’ll go with you. But then you gotta come make a pizza with me, end the thing on a high note.”

He looked at Thomas, directly in the eye and holding the gaze. All seriousness. “Deal?”
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas had since finished drying his hands. His eyes ended up shifting over to look at the blond. He saw the tension wrap around his body. He figured it would. And he knew it was likely a place that Sal hardly wanted to go back to that cemetery. He himself... was almost frightened to. It was just so concrete. The tombstone, and the setting, and the memories of the funeral. Thomas honestly didn't know of another time he had cried so much.

Yet... Paul deserved it. And... running from this pain wouldn't make it go away. He'd get him some fresh roses. Paul's favorite flower. Set them on his grave, and have a few moments of silence. Maybe even... speak a little to what was left of Paul: his tombstone. And hope he heard him, somewhere, up there...

Taken out of his thoughts, he stared at Sal as the other added on an extra step to their little outing. A slow smile tugged at his lips then, and lifted up to his eyes. He watched those blues with his green gaze, and soon he gave a nod.

"Deal," he extended a hand then, as if to shake on it.

With that decided, Thomas withdrew his hand. And he felt oddly sheepish in those moments. He turned his gaze away from Sal as he looked about the kitchen and the dining room nearby.

What now... ? Normally he'd beg off by this point. Yet... Thomas found himself not wanting to leave...
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sal slid his hand into Thomas’, shook it and released. He was able to let out a breath then too, some of the tension draining from his body. Now, he wouldn’t be left to his own after this outing to the cemetery. And they’d have something to distract them. He’d dreaded the idea of being on his own, with his thoughts, after… He’d learned after that first night that his being alone with his thoughts centered on his brother was not a good thing; hence the obsessive nature he’d taken on for a while after, hardly ever leaving the pizzeria. Constantly having someone over and in his bed.

Glancing over Thomas, he managed a small smile. At least this time he’d have someone around who’d understand, and who’d he at least be able to halfway talk to about it.

They lapsed into silence, not altogether uncomfortable, but a silence that was largely indecisive. Dinner was done, Thomas had seen the box, and they’d had their dessert. The dishes were clean. He hadn’t planned for anything else, but now that everything was done and he knew Thomas would end up leaving soon… Sal wished he had. Because he honestly liked Thomas, and didn’t really want him to go just yet. He was the first person in a long while outside his brother, uncle, and cousin who Sal genuinely enjoyed having around. Could stand to have around.

If he was really honest with himself, Thomas was the first person in a long time he’d had in his apartment that he wasn’t having sex with. It was a lot weird for him to realize that, but he was strangely ok with it.

“So…” He rubbed an almost uncertain hand against the back of his neck, frowning a little as he tried to think. “I made some coffee earlier. Or, I think I might have some tea…” he turned for the small cabinet near his stove, producing a little box of store bought tea packets. “Ya, this stuff. Paul made me buy it. Chamomile. Said I got too stressed out and it would relax me or somethin’…” he smirked a bit as he waved the box a little in Thomas’ direction. “I don’t know much about all that, but if you want some, be my guest. I’m gonna have coffee. We could…” he shrugged, grasping for an idea. “We could watch something. Might be a movie on some channel somewhere… if you want. If you gotta go or whatever that's fine, but you could hang around a while. If you want.”
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
The Brit tipped his head up as Sal broke the silence. His green eyes watched with intrigue as the blond went about pawing out a box of Chamomile tea. A hint of a smile came to his lips then. Hm... One might say he was offering an impromptu movie night for the sake of being hospitable. But Thomas doubted it. Seemed more likely... that Sal didn't exactly feel ready to part for the night either. A sentiment that warmed him, more so than Thomas would have believed. He pushed off the counter then.

"Do you even know how to brew tea?" he mused quietly. He took the box from Sal's hand, as he looked over the label. His green eyes then flicked back over to Sal.

"I have no where I have to be. So... a movie is fine with me," he smiled faintly. He looked about the kitchen then. Would Sal even have a kettle to heat up the water? Maybe. None the less he took it upon himself to make his own drink, and he began opening up cabinets in search for a kettle. He found one, hiding in the back of one of the cabinet shelves. Hah, rather underused. Made sense.

He eased the kettle out from it's hiding place and filled it with water from the faucet. Okay so normally he'd have preferred filtered water, but he'd settle this time for city water. He set the kettle on, and turned on the proper stove burner beneath it.

"Chamomile is good for relaxing a person. For me it tends to make me sleepy. Just... fair warning," he chuckled a bit as he searched around for a tea cup, and soon set it out, after opening up the box and pulling out one of the little tea bags. And now they waited.

"... Paul wasn't very fond of tea either. Coffee drinker, like you," he mused quietly. He supposed he only shared that tid bit because there had been times... similar to this. For him and Paul. His eyes softened at the memories. Though he smiled just a bit. "... Suppose it would be easier if I just took up coffee drinking," he chuckled.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sal watched curiously as the brunet pawed around his cabinets in search of a kettle he seriously doubted he had. Honestly, he didn’t really even know what a kettle looked like. When Thomas unearthed one, his brows jumped high over his eyes. Well, that was interesting. He hadn’t even known that was there. Or when he’d gotten it. Or why. Oh well.

He came over to the stove and leaned against the counter beside it, watching Thomas set it all up. His arms crossed over his chest, comfortable, and his eyes alternated between watching the kettle, Thomas’ hands, and the man’s face. A small smile worked over his mouth, discrete but pleased – the blond still warmed over the brunet’s agreement to stay a while.

He smirked when Thomas suggested he take up coffee drinking. “Mmm… nothin’ wrong with drinkin’ tea. It’s just as easy to find around here as coffee. Better to stick to what you like, sweetheart.” He gave a nod towards the kettle, hand unfolding from his chest to give a swift rub against Thomas’ back.

Sal then moved off from the other man and the stove, turning for his coffee pot and still hot brew inside. He fetched himself a mug and filled it, taking a healthy swallow and snatching a second bar of dessert pizza from the tray. He forwent a plate this time, just eating from his fingers while he waited in the kitchen with Thomas for the tea. He didn’t know how long it would take to brew the stuff up, since the one time he’d made it he just nuked a mug of water and dipped the bag in that, but he was willing to wait – a little surprised by that. He wasn’t normally a patient man.
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas gave an agreeing nod. "As long as you don't mind waiting..." he mused quietly. He made tea the old fashioned way. Though he knew even his mother would be a gasp that he'd used tap water. Thomas blinked twice as he felt the blond's hand brush his back. A gentle rub. He lifted his head, as curious green eyes lifted to watch Sal. The gaze softened though, and he smiled a little as Sal went about grabbing another piece of the dessert and chowed down while they waited for the kettle to whistle.

Smiling a bit, he looked to the dessert tray, and pondered a moment or two. Dare he risk getting more chocolate on his fingers? Ah... what the hell. He picked up a piece, carefully, and bit into it. He glanced to the other man as he chewed and swallowed.

"... So what would you normally be doing right now, if I wasn't over?" Thomas dared to ask. Though did he truly want to know? Or was he assuming the other man was more devious than he truly was?

The kettle began to whistle soon enough. Thomas' eyes turned to the steaming kettle, and he grabbed up a hot pad to take the handle of the kettle in his free hand and pour the hot water into the cup. A relaxed expression had filled Thomas' face, and he even hummed a bit to himself.

He took another bite of the dessert pizza, and chewed while he swished the tea bag back and forth in the tea, till he was satisfied with the rich color and he eased the bag out and tossed it. After adding some sugar and a dash of milk, he took a sip and smiled. He glanced to Sal then and made a motion with his head to the living room. "Shall we?"
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Sal couldn’t help it when a smirk pulled across his mouth at Thomas’ question. He lowered his eyes a moment, mulling over all the possible ways he could answer this. “Depends,” he stared and looked over at the clock on the stove – it was just about 8pm. “Just getting’ out of the shower, probably. Watch some TV or, uh,” he cleared his throat, once more trying to find a way to answer without really answering. “Might call an acquaintance.”

He looked at Thomas, taking another bite of his pizza as he watched the brunet. Even Sal had some tact, he wasn’t going to come right out and tell the other man he’d more than likely either be getting ready to pass out alone in his bed, or take a not so alone tumble with whichever guy or gal on the list of ‘partners’ he’d compiled over the years that struck his fancy that night. Whether or not Thomas understood what he hadn’t said though, was entirely up to the brunet. Sal had shared as much as he was going to on the matter.

The whistle of the kettle drug his eyes away from the other man and to the stove. Sal watched Thomas prepare his hot drink and nodded, holding out a gesturing hand towards the living room before heading that way. Once there, he plopped down on his couch and set his coffee on the table after taking a quick sip. He fished around for the remote, finding it wedged between the cushions. “So, what kind of stuff do you watch?”
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas gave a nod as Sal informed him of his casual evening dealings. Shower, tv... and maybe an 'aquaintence'. Interesting wording. It filled the brunet with probably less than ideal visions of the man before him. If friends were coming over, he'd have called them that. Which meant...

He pushed those thoughts aside. What Sal did when he was alone was his business...

Thomas followed Sal out to the couch, and he casual sat down, after setting his tea on the coffee table.He took another bite of his second helping of dessert, when Sal asked him what he liked to watch. He smiled a bit as he swallowed.

"I don't watch TV that much, to be honest," he gave a little shrug of his shoulders. "I love going to theaters though. Live performances. Plays. Musicals." he mused quietly. Wow he wasn't gay at all was he? Hah. Thomas truly embodied probably anyone's thoughts when one brought up 'refined homosexual'. But he was hardly ashamed of who he was.

"When I do watch TV or movies though... I love anything historical. Movies, documentaries," he gave a nod. "Comedy is always good too..." he added. He wasn't all hoity toity, he swore, mentally. He glanced back to Sal.

"What about yourself?" he asked, as he crossed one of his legs over the other. He had been wearing his shoes the entire time. Then again he'd been treating the whole dinner as a rather semi-formal affair. Who wore their socks to any sort of formal dinner? But it had broken down. Not so formal anymore.
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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onyx
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dream a little bigger, darling <3
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Plays. Musicals. Sal chuckled over that and gave his head a little shake. “You would.” He kept grinning, totally unsurprised by Thomas’ answer. After all, the Brit was the kind of man who got embarrassed over a burp or licking his fingers, who went to a library and spent his day reading Shakespeare. He was refined, more so than anyone else Sal knew, and intelligent. With Paul gone, Sal had no problem determining that Thomas was also probably the smartest person he knew. The man was training to become a doctor after all; an idiot wasn’t likely to get through something like that.

The blond smirked when asked what he watched. “Pretty much anythin’ as long as it’s good. Action, adventure type stuff. Explosions are fun,” he flicked an amused look at the man beside him. Shifting, he slouched a bit and flicked the set across from them on, ideally surfing through channels in search of something for them to watch. “Never been very big on musicals, but they’re not too bad. Historical stories,” he nodded. “I like those and no, not just the ones about Italy.”

He kept surfing channels, pausing long enough to slant a teasing look at the other man. “Comedy? I’d have figured a lot of comedy would be too crass and uncultured for a proper gentlemen such as yourself.” Sal nudged his knee over against Thomas’, a playful little bump. “Figured it would pain you to lower yourself to the illiterate caveman status me and mainstream comedy are on.”

Looking back to his television, he flicked around a bit more and came across a film just beginning that brought another quick quirk to his lips. “How about this? Braveheart. Action and history, all about big Scottish guys in kilts and how your ancestors oppressed the shit out of ‘em.” He chuckled, smirking at the brunet. “How’s this? Or you can find whatever you want,” he presented the remote to Thomas, offering up control of the device while he reached for his coffee with the other.
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passionflower
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do it with passion or not at all
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Action. Adventure. Thomas smirked in response. Okay so maybe the two of them were a bit typical in their tastes. Sal, your average guy, of course would love to watch that type of stuff. And explosions. Lots of explosions. Though he also was fine with historical stories... even ones that were not about Italy. A bemused little smile came to Thomas' lips.

How fun it would have been... him, Paul and Sal, to spend a night. Movies, good food and what he speculated would have been plenty of laughter and smiles. Something that would never come to be...

He felt the nudge to his knee and a chuckle escaped him as Sal teased him for being surprisingly tolerable of comedy. The smile on his face reached his eyes, and he gave a playful shrug. "I'm not so uptight that I can't laugh at the cruder things in life..." he smiled faintly.

Thomas' eyes went to the TV then, as Sal found them Braveheart. The remote was then offered his way, if he found the idea of Mel Gibbson in a kilt to be unfavorable. He shook his head.

"This is fine," he smirked. He gave him a flick in the shoulder though. "I actually has a wee bit of Scottish in me blood, lad." he teased with a smirk, putting on the accent for those words. Somewhere down the line... it was true. A grandmother or something. Many generations back. But it was still there. Heh, much like Sal and his steak of Irish amongst the Italian.

His eyes went back to the TV, as he took another bite of his dessert, and stole a few sips of the hot tea. Thomas got himself a bit more settled on the couch. Before long, he'd finished his second piece of the dessert tray. His gaze was still taken by the television, though he surprisingly began to lick at his fingers, to clean them. The act could likely be similar to that of a cat. The funny part was it seemed almost subconscious. Maybe he wasn't an entirely lost cause with it came to being casual.

As the movie went on, Thomas had finished off his tea, and his hands soon found his lap... though one had wrapped about a nearby pillow, all for the same of getting comfy. His eyes were drooped faintly, as that Chamomile was getting to him. And before too much longer, Sal might have felt the faint weight of the brunet leaning against him. His cheek on his shoulder, arm against Sal's side. His eyes were still open, but he had a relaxed look on his face, almost bordering on dazed.

Or maybe... he simply was imagining it was Paul he was leaning on in those moments, and not Sal...
~*yes, as you wanted, I gave everything to you*~
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