Until now, it was just a mini-crush on a handsome guy. Now he becomes the boyfriend I've always dreamed of.
I'm still drunk.
He can see it in my glassy eyes.
I'm drunk but a bit clear-headed.
Clear-headed enough to see that the image I have of him matches who he is.
At that precise moment, I receive a message from my boyfriend saying, "I'm leaving. You'll probably find someone who passes near the apartment on the way back."
What to say, his constant indifference no longer surprises me. He had probably finally noticed through the window that I had been talking to this guy for a while. Which must have encouraged the coldness of this message, but I don't care.
YOU ARE READING
Achille's smile
Literatura FaktuTranslated from French A love story told by a girl on her university group on Facebook
