There it was, the pivotal question. Eddy smiled awkwardly, feeling strangely calm and yet completely unhinged at the same time. There was a heavy sense of resignation in his chest and yet his mind was an echo chamber, screaming 'fuck fuck fuck' into the void. It was inevitable, he couldnt lie about who he was anymore, but from this moment on everything would change between them.<br/><br/>Eddy chuckled sardonically.<i>You're an artist?<br/>
</i><br/>"Used to be," he said, wryly. "You know that statue downtown. The, y'know.... the angel?"<br/><br/>The very same statue that Luke had mentioned. Everyone knew Edwin Yeoman had made it, his name was carved into a placard right in front of the damn thing.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><i>Hold Them Sweetly<br/>
Edwin Yeoman<br/>
In celebration of Donna Bennett <br/>
A Gaurdian Angel to Everyone that Needed One<br/>
<br/>
</i>​</div>