αмσя σмηια νιη¢ιт - English

𝕬 𝖗𝖊𝖕𝖑𝖞 𝖙𝖔 𝖆 𝖑𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗

Dear Margaret Barnes,

Thank you very much for your good advice. You make me wonder again why I deserve such a good friend like you.

Let me remind you that I never leave my things lying around, except for that one poem.

And I certainly don't want you sniffing through my stuff! For God's sake, how do you know my diary is under my mattress?

I guess you know me too well.

No such kind regards,

your friend

Oliver Blakeley.

P.S. : Don't worry about that kiss, it will be fine. But that's none of your business. Alastair says he would like to meet you too. Poor boy.

I folded my letter to Margaret and put it in an envelope. I would have it sent later.

I leaned back in my chair and slowly blew out the smoke of my cigarette. I looked at the library, the room that had become more familiar to me lately than my own bed. Candles were burning everywhere, and their scents mixed with those of the old books on the shelves.

The tables were full of my poems and empty papers waiting to be written.

And finally I looked at the boy with his chestnut-brown curls and dark eyes, who was playing the piano so passionately. And the most beautiful thing was that I was his and he was mine.

My eyes focused on Margaret's letter and my diary excerpts. I read everything chuckling and remembered my confused feelings and thoughts from a few weeks ago.

I noticed that Alastair had stopped playing the piano and looked at me curiously. 'What's so funny?' he asked.

'Oh, nothing special. A letter from a friend.'

Within a few seconds Alastair had stood up and grabbed the letter out of my hands. He read it quickly and grinned too.

I growled, 'Give back my letter!' while, for the umpteenth time, I regretted the fact that Alastair was a bit taller than me. He held the letter over his head and waved it.

'For a kiss,' he said.

I looked at him contemptuously. 'You're really childish, do you know that?' I said.

Alastair lowered the letter and I grabbed it out of his hands. 'And secretly you quite like that,' he said, with a naughty twinkle in his eyes.

Oh, those eyes.

I dropped the letter on the floor and kissed Alastair passionately on his mouth, so that I didn't have to look into those dark eyes anymore.

Those eyes that read me so perfectly.