Dear Edmund:
I guess this wasn't as bad as you thought. Was it? Since now you insist in making the most out of our current seating arrangement. Invading my personal space, in other words. Well I think you know this, but invading doesn't really seem like the right term to use with you. Because if I actually felt invaded I wouldn't be all smiley all day. And when you lean over, and my breath hitches, and you lean on my desk to talk to Michael, and then you smirk, subtly, but I notice. And sometimes, Edmund, I get the feeling that you notice too. That you take my breath away.
YOU ARE READING
Letters to Edmund
Non-Fiction"Letters to you, even though you'll never get them" (This book is like a diary for me, everything that happens actually happens for real, so please respect my work and the characters because they are real people)
