14, 17, 20, 24, 28 and 45 - for Victoria de Angelis the Princess of Måneskin
14. I don’t want to be alone.
17. Here, lay down in my lap.
24. Why would you care? Because I love you! *soulmate silence*
28. You look so comfy, and cuddle-able
45. Let’s just stay in bed.
A/n: challenge of the year: CAN TEENY CONNECT THESE ALL INTO A FIC (idk haven’t started yet). Oh and btw babe, I just left out 20 because I had another prompt with it <3
Future a/n: allow me to explain myself. So I was very bored and when my mind doesn’t do something it gets ✨bad tm✨, which is why this “blurb” ended up being 5K words long
A HUGE thank you to @idyllicbutterfly for encouraging me on. You were an angel❤️❤️❤️
Taglist: @fuckim-so-gay @ginny-lily @messyhairday-me @cheese-toastie-11 @wannabemarlenabutiscoraline @simp-per-ethan @maneskinrollercoaster @juststalking @superchrystaldrug @immrbrightsideeee @shehaddreamstoo @tiaamberxx @victoriadeangeliswifey @bidet-and-legolas @makapaka11 @electra-phoebe @makeavvish @perfectlyunbiasedobservation @cucciolafaerie @theimpossiblehologramtree @unitersmoonshine @deeavjbes @selenophiliaxx @oro-e-diamanti @l0standn0tf0und @iosonoarina @que--sera--sera @filthforfriends
“You know what? Just get the fuck out of here! All you do is fuck shit up, ever since you’ve decided to follow Damiano around like a hopless touch-starved child!” Vic yelled, not being able to contain her rage anymore.
Y/n got on her nerves, to say the least. Every fucking time she would try to do something with the band, just the four of them, of course she had to tag along as well, and Damiano never commented. Why would he? She was his cousin, after all. Vic, however, would have gladly pushed her off a cliff.
She had the most annoying voice, always so angelic and smooth, as If she had no negative emotions. She always spoke her mind, which pissed Vic off in equal measures. She just seemed like an overall goody-two shoes who was sent there to be a huge pain in the ass for Vic.
Tonight was, of course, no exception. They were all gathered around the dining table, eating pasta and discussing about the work they had done. It had been an important day after all. A few producers from England had come to check out their music, and they were all tense, yet excited. The recording had gone amazing, they managed to get in a few snippets from their new songs too and everyone was pleasantly surprised. It had been a perfect day.
Until Y/n came. Just her presence pissed Vic off, which made the whole atmosphere incredibly tense. Y/n accidentally spilling a glass of water was the fire their argument needed.
“Yeah, of course, I’m the touch-starved child! Says the girl who walks around naked all day!” Y/n shouted back, feeling her eyes get filled with tears. Arguments were never her forte.
“Do you see anyone touching me? Besides, why would I need someone else to do it when I’m oh so good at doing it my damn self?” Vic retorted, a devilish grin on her face. She knew how flustered Y/n got when conversations turned sexual, and there was nothing better than taking advantage of it.
“Yeah there you go with your masturbation jokes again. So mature.” She answered, rolling her eyes.
“More mature than blushing at any mentions of it.”
“THAT’S ENOUGH! Both of you! We’re all fucking sick of you two getting into fights every single day! Today was perfect and you just had to fucking ruin it!” Ethan interrupted both girls, his strong voice overpowering theirs.
“It’s not my fault she’s a clumsy idiot who gets on my nerves every fucking time!”
“Well It’s not mine either that she’s a stuck up bitch who’s blunt as fuck!”
“I’m surprised you know the word!”
Damiano exhaled loudly, being just as fed up with the arguing as Ethan. He looked at the other guys, signaling with his head towards the pool and they all got up simultaneously to leave.
“Well, I guess that leaves the two of us, huh angel?” Vic spoke, her honeyed voice echoed by the large room.
“You’re such a fucking bitch.” Y/n muttered, rolling her eyes in disgust.
“If you are going to insult me, at least be clever about it. You see, that’s one of the fucking things I can’t stand about you. You’re just so fucking basic all the time. There’s nothing unique about you, you’re just like everybody else because you’re absolutely terrified of what people think about you.” She kept on saying, her voice growing more dangerous as she got closer to Y/n.
Vic could see how much her words affected her, and oh how it fed her ego. Y/n’s eyes were already red, awfully close to spilling all the tears carefully stashed in her dark eyes. Her breath was ragged, also hinting at how close she was from crying. Y/n’s hair always seemed to cascade perfectly down her wide shoulders, the fake blue tint making her skin look even colder. She was fake in practically every aspect. That was Vic’s favorite thought- there was no way someone could ever be that perfect.
“That’s fucking low, you asshole.” Y/n murmured, her voice as weak as she felt.
“Oh sweetheart, you’d moan my name if you’d truly let me go low.” Victoria snickered.
“I really fucking doubt that. I don’t really think a person like you could be talented in bed.”
“Oh well now I’m interested. Would you happen to have any particular reasoning behind that thought?” She responded, quite interested in what Y/n could possibly answer.
“Considering how carelessly you insult me, you’d be too ignorant to even realize whether your partner would be having a good time or not.”
Victoria cackled, rolling her head back in amusement. Y/n’s voice seemed so pathetic to her, how shaky and fragile it was.
“Aww, I’m insulting you, puppy? Am I hurting your sweet little feelings?” She mused, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.
Y/n was completely frozen at the contect.. Her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat. Why would Victoria even bother touching her when she couldn’t even stand her presence in the same room?
“What the fuck do you want, Victoria?” Y/n mumbled, not daring to move away from her hand, which was now on the nape of her head.
“Well, darling, since you’re a huge pain in my ass, it would seem that calming you down would be a common interest. Even if fucking you is the way to achieve that.”
Y/n gasped and pulled away quickly, turning around so fast her sight had to catch up. She hurried to the counter and picked up her keys, shoved them in her purse and went to get her coat. Fuck- where was it?
“Looking for this?” Vic asked from behind. Her voice had somehow calmed down, but it was probably in Y/n’s head.
She turned around slowly, hoping her redness would at least settle down even for a fraction of a second. Y/n frowned when she noticed that the coat was on the coffee table, with Vic nowhere in sight.
Y/n scoffed as she walked towards the table. “Of course she didn’t mean it.”
“Vic, I need you to do us a favor.” Thomas approached the blonde, a bowl of fruit in his hands. “Here’s an offering, to put you in a good mood.”
Vic raised her eyebrow at the boy, already suspicious of what they were about to ask.
“What do you want, Thomas?”
He looked around, sharing not so discreet glances with Ethan and Damiano, before focusing his attention back on her.
“So, we got a call from Y/n. She um- she is having a rough day, and we wanted to go pick up a few things for her when she gets back. That does, however, mean you will be left with her, so we need you to at least try and not make it worse.”
Vic smirked. They were fucked, and mostly, Y/n was most definitely going to punch Vic.
“Taking care of our sweet little princess? Oh it’s gonna be my pleasure.”
“Vic, seriously, don’t fuck around with this.” Damiano intervened, sending Vic what seemed like a death glare. Not quite so scary to the girl, who was known for killing people with her glares.
“You must have forgotten my own problems with panic attacks, and that, assuming she will have one. Regardless, she won’t even feel my presence. I promise.”
All three sighed in relief, getting ready to head out the door and muttering their thanks to the blonde.
Y/n had drived in the alleyway, parking her car right in front of the garaje. She knew the feeling that already sunk into her stomach. Letting her head flop onto the wheel, she inhaled and exhaled deeply a few times. She needed a distraction before it would be too late.
“Damiano?” She asked while opening the door, praying he would be right there, hands open wide for her to relax in. Of course, considering her luck, he wasn’t.
“Amazing.” She whispered, as she fell against the door, slamming it shut with a loud thud.
It took a few seconds for her senses to recognize the new environment, a familiar scent managing to throw her off completely. She knew the smell all too well. Warm milk with a teaspoon of honey mixed in and her mother’s cinnamon apples. It even smelled like roasted pecans.
She took her boots off carefully, still trying to figure out who had cooked all those things, especially since Damiano was away.
“Hello?” She asked again, peeking through the archway and seeing the kitchen just as empty as the rest of the house.
Confusion clouded her mind as she walked further in, taking a look at the pot on the stove. It was filled with apples, just as she had smelled, and right next to it was a mug of honey milk. Not waiting a second more, she grabbed a plate and filled it with the desert, jumping on the counter and beginning to eat them.
The problem with all the silence was that it allowed her mind to think whatever it wished. The childhood meal hadn’t made it better either. Her mother passed a few years ago. That’s when Damiano’s family took her in and cared for her. That’s also how she grew so close to him, why she followed him around. He was like a brother to her, always looking out for her and making sure she was as happy as she could be.
Her heart skipped a beat, and the coils in her stomach grew tighter, almost cutting off her breath. She began panicking, desperate to cling to the smallest bit of sanity she had left.
That’s when Victoria walked into the kitchen, widening her eyes at Y/n.
“Oh shit, you’re home. I’ll just grab some snacks and go-“
“Wait no, please. Just… I don’t wanna be alone.” Y/n begged, looking at Vic with a desperation she could easily recognize. For a split second, the panic they were both familiar with connected them.
“Alright. Do you want me to hold you or just distract you?” The blonde asked carefully, feeling as if she was stepping on glass. She was really trying to keep the promise she had made to Damiano.
Y/n eyed Vic up and down for a second. She was wearing a fluffy robe, no doubt naked underneath, but the thought of her warm, soft skin touching her own swam around in Y/n’s mind.
“I’m not gonna lie. You look really comfy, and cuddle-able.” She chuckled, quickly swiping a tear off her face.
Vic nodded, replicating Y/n’s soft smile, and walked over to her, slowly grasping Y/n into her embrace.The girl closed her eyes, relaxing against Vic’s touch and leaning her head on the blonde’s shoulder. She smelled slightly of cinnamon and honey. Y/n knew it was just because of the scent that filled the kitchen. She couldn’t have known or remembered her childhood food.
“Hey, Y/n, calm down. Just try and match your breath to mine. Don’t focus on anything else.”
Her words were surprisingly soothing. Or at least, they did a good job at relaxing her. Y/n focused on doing exactly what Vic had instructed. She felt the blonde’s chest rise and fall slowly, a pattern she knew quite well. Inhale 4 seconds, hold 7 and exhale 8. The soft fabric of the robe brushed against her cheek and Vic’s blonde hair tickled her neck. She could feel her hands rubbing small circles on her back, leaving a warm trail in their wake. Everything about her was meant to calm her down. It was a small, sunny island in an ocean full of storms.
“How do you feel?” Vic’s voice softly interrupted her, making her jolt slightly.
“Hey, look at me.” The blonde’s voice immediately led her back to the relaxed state she was in. “Wanna go upstairs? I’ll hold you till you fall asleep.”
Y/n nodded gently, her lids almost closed. She hadn’t realized just how exhausted she was until now. Maybe it was the stress.
Vic gracefully helped her off the counter, and held her hand as she started walking towards her room.
“You can lay down, I’ll go get you your pajamas.”
“Actually I-… nevermind. Yeah, that’s okay.”
Vic halted in her steps, turning around towards Y/n. “No, tell me.”
“No, it’s fine, the pj’s are ok.”
Vic puffed, walking back towards Y/n. She nuzzled the girl’s head against her, running her fingers through her hair. “Would you prefer sleeping without clothes?”
Y/n nodded her head against her, a peachy blush appearing on her cheeks. Vic chuckled and pulled away, not missing the disappointed look on Y/n’s face at the loss of contact, and went to the bathroom. She quickly found what she needed, a few makeup remover wipes, and went back to the bed.
“I’ll just take off your makeup. Here, lay down in my lap.”
Vic’s soft hands led her down, resting on her thighs, and began wiping her face gently. Y/n basked in the feeling of being cared for, and let Vic wipe away all the things on her face, along with all her worries.
She opened her eyes when she felt Vic bend over her to leave the wipes on the nightstand. She pushed Y/n off, climbing in the middle of the bed and taking her robe off. Her assumptions had been correct, Vic was indeed wearing nothing underneath.
The blonde opened her arms, calling Y/n over. Closing her eyes, she cuddled into Vic and tried to focus on her breathing again. There were, however, a few more distractions.
If Y/n had thought the robe was soft, Vic’s skin was on a whole other level. It pressed softly to her own, warming Y/n up as if she were a cup of hot chocolate on a winter day. Her arms were wrapped around her neck, keeping her head safe and hidden between her limbs. A leg was nonchalantly wrapped around her torso, making her feel as welcome in her arms as show would have in her childhood home, many years ago.
“You wanna take yours off too? I’m sure office attire isn’t all that comfy.” She chuckled softly, the warm breath hitting Y/n’s exposed neck and the vibrations sending tingles throughout her body.
Y/n made a bit of distance between her and Vic’s body, and reached up to her shirt, beginning to unbutton it. The blonde’s hands began working on her trousers, looking at her briefly for consent, before pulling them off and throwing them away.
“You can stay with the bra on if you’re more comfortable like that. Or I could get you a shirt.”
“No, it’s fine. Sleeping in a bra would suck anyway.”
Vic smiled fondly as she pulled Y/n back in, easily unclasping her bra and sliding it off. Y/n could feel a blush creeping on her body. Never had she thought she would end up in a bed naked, with none other than Victoria.
She must have noticed Y/n was slightly nervous, because her hands were instantly cupping her cheek, focusing her attention on the blonde.
“Relax, sweetheart. I promise tomorrow will be a better day.” She whispered, pulling her in.
Y/n felt like she transcended into paradise when their bodies made contact. Feeling Vic directly on her body was without a doubt the most amazing sensation she had felt yet. It was even warmer, better than any wool scarf or comforter. Her skin felt like silk, as if she would leave kisses on every single inch of her body, as soft as butterflies.
The blonde smiled, feeling how Y/n melted in her hands, and brought her even closer. The coconut scent of Y/n’s shampoo enveloped her like a magical wave of calm. Her hair was even softer than it looked, and she loved nothing more than to comb her hands through it. It was long, reaching her waist and it always accentuated Y/n’s features perfectly.
Neither of the girls knew how much time had passed. Vic had felt Y/n drift off to sleep. It was rewarding feeling her so relaxed, knowing how close she had been to a panic attack hours ago. No matter how much she hated Y/n, she felt like there was an unspoken bond between them.
It would, however, disappear again in the morning. That's what Vic told herself. There was no use getting used to feeling Y/n’s frail body against her own. It would most definitely be the first and last time she would ever experience this. In the morning, they would go back to hating each other.
Those thoughts were enough to build up Vic’s walls again. Everyone had them. Especially her, since she was in the music industry at such a young age, she had her inner self carefully guarded. Perhaps it was a mistake, letting Y/n in. Even for a night.
Vic tried to roll the girl over, getting off the bed as quietly as possible. Right as she was about to stand up, a warm hand grabbed her wrist, making her turn around.
“Please, Vic, just stay. Let’s just stay in bed.”
Her jaw clenched. An internal battle, as always, plagued her soul. If she stayed, she knew how disappointed she would be in the morning. If she left, she would have lost the feeling she yearned for since Y/n stepped into her life.
But who was truly strong enough to walk away from someone like Y/n?
A few moments later, they were both clung to each other, holding on as if they were each other’s only oasis. They drifted to sleep, entangled and unsure of where their bodies began and where they were just touching the other.
“Thomas, if you don’t shut the fuck up I will shove this bag of chips up yo bootyhole.” Damiano muttered, embodying a southern accent.
“Why in the holy fucks did you say it like that?” Thomas’s strained voice answered, barely holding in his laughter.
“Because he is dramatic. Now both of you, zip it.” Ethan whispered, not sure if there was anyone awake in the house.
Their trip had ended up taking longer than expected. The original plan was to go to Y/n’s home, get a blanket she used when she was younger, buy snacks and ice cream and then come back and cuddle all night.
Of course, there were a few bumps on the road. The trip to her house should have taken about an hour. Their car, however, decided it would be just so comical to break down halfway there. Between the angry and over-gestured insults thrown at one another, they waited for someone to come help them. Eventually, a kind woman stopped behind them and fixed it. That was one problem out of the way.
When they got to Y/n’s house, they realized no one had gotten the key.
“Thomas, give me the key.” Damiano asked, extending his hand out to the guitarist.
“Me? You gave it to Ethan!”
“Excuse me? Wasn’t it Damiano who had it in the first place?”
Italian arguing ensued. They eventually decided upon propelling Ethan into the second floor window, as he was the lightest and most “built like Santa’s dick”, as Thomas lovingly called him.
Three bruises and a fallen cat later, Ethan managed to climb into Y/n’s room. Grabbing the blanket quickly, he took a photo of the princess stickers on her walls to use as blackmail for later and jumped back out.
“Good, so our last stop is the gas station. Ethan, your wallet please.” Damiano exclaimed happily, looking at Ethan through the mirror of the car. Thomas muttered a slow uh-oh, as Ethan’s face paled, doing the wallet patting all over his body.
“Dear Ethan, tell me you did not lose your wallet or so help me god i will shave your hair off.”
“And I will cut off that Damiano David Dick if you touch my hair.”
Another half an hour later, they were back at Y/n’s house. Ethan climbed into her room again, got the wallet which had fallen out of his pocket when he took out his phone, and they were all on their way back to the gas station.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.”
The atmosphere in the car was tense. Damiano was at the wheel, staring angrily at every passing car, Ethan next to him, his arms crossed and a judgy look on his face. Thomas was in the back, looking like a lost puppy whose parents had gotten into a fight.
“Okay, well at least we have the blanket.” Thomas whispered as they all took their shoes off, entering the house.
“Yeah, the one fucking thing we could have dealt without.” Ethan’s retort came, making Damiano snort.
“Wait, why does it smell like cinnamon apples?”
“Because someone fucking cooked some?”
“Shut up, both of you.” Ethan was quick to interrupt them, fulfilling his role as a mother-hen. He walked towards the kitchen, examining the pots.
“I think it was Vic. Y/n doesn’t add that much sugar.” Damiano commented, licking the sauce off his finger.
“Why would Vic bake this? She doesn’t even like cinnamon.”
“Do you think that maybe she did it to help Y/n?” Thomas asked, hope building up in his chest. “Even better! Do you think they’re sleeping upstairs cuddled up like they do in movies after years of fighting?”
“Be quiet you romantic fool. They most likely are, considering that the sexual tension between them is enough to choke us all.” Ethan commented, a knowing smile spreading on his lips.
“If CO2 emissions won’t choke us to death their tension will and you may quote me on that.” Muttered Damiano, as he beckoned for the others to follow him up the stairs.
Slowly making their way to the bedroom, anticipation grew inside each one of them- all for different reasons. Damiano wanted his best friend and cousin to finally get along, Ethan wanted to get rid of the arguments and Thomas wanted someone to ship.
Ethan was the one who opened the door, slowly turning the doorknob to avoid any creaks. He almost had to cover Thomas’s mouth when they all saw the two girls cuddled up together. Their hearts melted in the moment, but Ethan and Damiano had to drag the guitarist away before he would go and kiss them both on the forehead.
Walking back downstairs, they pushed him outside, where he could finally start celebrating.
“I KNEW IT! I WAS RIGHT! I KNEW THEY WERE IN LOVE!”
“Thomas, just because they were cuddling doesn’t mean they are in love.” Ethan shut him down, taking a seat on a beach chair.
“Suck my balls, Ethan. Let me be enthusiastic for once.”
The drummer scoffed, leaning back on the chair and inhaling deeply. What a night.
“Alright, I’ll leave you two to it. It is way past midnight and I am tired. I didn’t even get to drink my tea.” Damiano mumbled as he walked away, shoulders slumped and eyelids droopy.
“Buh bye grandpa.”
Ethan chuckled, but he soon followed Damiano inside too. Thomas stayed out for a few more moments, thanking the stars, before heading to bed as well. The events of the following morning would have required a clear head. Who knew what kind of fight Vic and Y/n could get into. If they did, that is.
Soft skin touched hers, warming her body up in a delicious way. Vic’s eyes opened slowly as she took in her surroundings. Long, dark hair cascading down her shoulders- fuck. Y/n’s long hair. She had cuddled Y/n all night long.
She was suddenly fully awake, looking around desperately to make sure it wasn’t just a dream. The worst thing that could happen was if she’d wake up and see how panicked Vic was. What would she say? I've been in love with you for years but hid it and instead bullied you like a 12 year old boy?
She rolled away from the girl, almost jumping off the bead and throwing her robe on. She was out the room in a second and heading towards the kitchen, towards a safe space. She would need a coffee for this. Maybe a spiked one.
Y/n woke up a few minutes after Vic. There wasn’t the same reassuring presence that had kept her calm throughout the night. She was cold and sore, looking around for- Vic. Oh she had been with Vic that night. And worst of all… she had left.
“Morning.” Y/n muttered, walking down the stairs. Damiano and Thomas were on the couch, both greeting her.
The smell of pancakes reached Y/n, calling her over to the kitchen where she found Ethan shirtless, making breakfast.
“Oh, buongiorno amore. How did you sleep?”
Y/n blushed, remembering last night. She had seen Vic completely naked, and had been touching every single inch of her body. But she left. Vic left her. Y/n knew she regretted it. She always backed down from things like these.
The new perspective she had of the night made her recoil at her own touch. It was as if the grazes she considered as a cure last night became a bitter potion in her body.
“I fell asleep quickly. I still feel like shit though.”
“Well that’s surprising. From what I remember you were still sleeping like a puppy this morning.” Vic smirked as she strutted into the kitchen, grabbing a plate from one of the cabinets.
Ethan’s eyes widened, having a feel for where the conversation was about to go. He quickly turned off the stove and went into the living room, giving the girls some privacy.
“Well, you must not have been there to see me wake up.”
Vic puffed, rolling her shoulders back as If they were about to fight physically.
“Well pardon me If I didn't want to wake you up. But that’s not what’s bothering you.”
Y/n was thrown off by how careful Vic was being. She hadn’t made any sarcastic retort, hadn’t judged or insulted her in some way.
“Well, you left. It would have been nice to not wake up freezing.” Y/n answered, making a joke out of all of it.
“Sleep in my bed tonight too, and I promise I’ll be there when you wake up.”
Y/n frowned again and turned to look at Vic. She eyed her up and down to see if there was something wrong, something Y/n hadn’t noticed.
“You’re tense, Y/n. Relax.” She whispered, approaching the girl and rubbing her shoulders in a soothing way.
“No, wait. Vic, get the fuck away. What the hell are you doing?” She was mad now. Perhaps it was her brain, who couldn’t let her believe that Vic could actually care for her, or just a gut feeling that told her not to trust the girl.
“Y/n, can you please stop. I don’t want you getting stressed again.” Vic answered, getting frustrated at how Y/n shut her out, despite clinging to her body for dear life the previous night.
“And why would you care?” She asked, ice cold as she waited for Vic to admit it was all a ruse and she had no interest in her.
“Because I love you!” The words left her mouth before her brain could stop her.
Vic’s eyes widened, her breath caught in her throat as she waited for Y/n’s reaction. She was silent for a few moments, looking back at her with a deep sorrow that broke Vic apart.
“How.” Her voice was small, broken. A toy thrown around all her life, who could not believe that someone could possibly care for her. To love her, that’s what she never managed to fathom.
Tears threatened to fall out of Vic’s icy blue eyes. She slowly walked towards Y/n, cupping her cheek gently and continued looking into her eyes, hoping that her affection would get to her.
“Why, Vic.” She asked again, tears already reddening her cheeks as she leaned into Vic’s hand.
The blonde didn’t know how to respond. She slowly got closer to her face, so close she didn’t know whose air she was breathing and kissed her.
It was slow. Her lips barely grazed above her, so softly not even a feather would move away. Her arms went around Y/n hugging her tightly, but keeping the same, light pressure on her lips.
God, how much she had dreamed of them. They looked like pillows, dyed a rosy color, the same as the plants you would find tangled up in trees. How her lips moved when she talked, when she smiled, yawned, screamed or her personal favorite, when she gasped. They would be slightly parted yet still sucked in.
“Victoria.” She spoke against her lips, not bothering to pull apart. She said it as if it was a prayer. As if the safety she had found in the blonde was now hers to keep, to treasure.
Vic lifted a hand up to the nape of her neck, and pulled her closer. Their mouths were now moving in sync, each one taking turns to explore the other.
Vic kept kissing her passionately, holding her in her hands. She stopped for a moment, breathing as deeply as Y/n was, and licked her lower lip. It was soft, just as she had imagined. A small scar by the corner caught her attention, and she swiped her tongue over it a few times. She left a light kiss to Y/n’s lip before biting it softly, earning a gasp from the girl.
“Vic.” She said again.
This time, she pulled away and went back to staring into her eyes again.
“I love you too.”
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