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❝ are we going to need a condom? ❞
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SOMETIMES HUMAN CONNECTION ISN'T ALL THAT COMPLICATED. Sometimes it's just about stepping back and asking the other person: what do I mean to you, what do you see in me, why do you think we landed here?
Most people think that love follows some triumphant story line: you meet and you are in love and everything unfolds according to fate. But love is just two imperfect people, feeling their way through the dark together. Love is a calamity. You fall in love and it turns out the person you are with is deeply flawed. You fall in love and it turns out that you are deeply flawed. You think that means nothing is magical anymore, but it really means that the magic has just begun. This is not the end of a love story. This is the very beginning.
"You're staring," Enola noted.
"I'm admiring," Klaus corrected.
"It's creepy," Enola scoffed.
"It's romantic," Klaus countered.
Enola and Klaus were in the art room. Fresh paint filled the air as he sat at his easel. He would glance at her every so often from across the room. Her eyelashes fluttered as she kept her stare locked on the sheet of paper. After he had calmed her down, she fell asleep. She woke up that morning confused and alone. She found him in the art room before deciding to join him. She sat down and began to write letters. He didn't know who they were addressed to and he didn't ask. The last thing he wanted was to scare her away. So he grabbed an empty canvas and began to paint. They had been sitting in silence when she noticed his lingering stares.
"You're an idiot," Enola muttered.
"But I am your idiot," Klaus claimed with a charming smile.
The shrill cry of a cell phone cut through the air. Enola looked at Klaus. It wasn't hers. She had turned her phone off yesterday. He carefully set his paintbrush down before pulling the phone out of his pocket. He quietly excused himself to the hallway, leaving her alone. When the door finally closed behind him, she set her pen down and shot to her feet. She had been curious as to what he had been up to moments prior. She glanced at the door to make sure he wasn't coming before rounding the easel to see the painting. Her heart skipped a beat at the painting he had finished. It was her and it was beautiful. She wore his clothes with her head hung low as she wrote her letters. She couldn't help but smile.
"You got my nose wrong," Enola called out.
Klaus let out a soft chuckle. Enola had felt the lingering presence. She glanced over her shoulder to find him standing in the doorway with a smile adorning his features. He pushed forward until he stood directly behind her. His chest brushed against her back as they looked at the painting.
