To Dean,
« I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way that this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest...
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LETTERS
To Dean,
If you really want to know who I am, meet me the first week end after Christmas' holidays on the main courtyard, eight at night, on sunday.
But, please, don't tell anyone.
With love, Joy.
Dean blinked fiercely, reading the letter over and over again to make sure he had not made it up in his mind. He paced back and forth in his room with the letter in front of his face, reading each word silently as the smile grew bigger and bigger on his figure.
Joy wanted to meet him. Finally, he would put a face on her personality and on all of the things she had told him in the past.
He didn't know why she didn't want him to tell anyone, but he didn't care, he knew he would be able to ask her all the questions he wanted the day he would finally be sitting next to her, able to see her smile.
Dean tucked the letter with all the others he had kept safe and hidden and raced in the common room, squealing like a child.
Most of the students who were there didn't pay much attention to the sixth year boy but Annabel who sat on the sofa near the fire noticed him right away.
A knot in her stomach reminded her what she had just done, how it could ruin everything they had built in years of friendship and that maybe she should have never done that.
But Annabel always respected her engagement and, therefore, she knew that, the first week end after Christmas break, on sunday, at eight, she would be sitting on a bench in the courtyard, waiting for Dean.
"Anna! Anna, my sweet Anna!" Dean exclaimed as he rushed to her, kneeling in front of the brunette.
Annabel laughed. "What is it Dean?"
Without thinking about what he was doing, Dean wrapped his arms around the girl's waist, tucking her against his chest and lifting her as he didn't let go of the embracing, the two of them swirling around, laughing.
"Dean! What's going on!" Annabel asked, still laughing.
Out of breath, the boy sat back on the couch, Annabel still against him as he snuggled his head in the crook of her neck.
