last time » TOLISSO ✓

six

It was impossible to figure Joyce out; that was the conclusion that Corentin had came up with after months of being around her.

She was a butterfly; that was the best imagery that he found to describe her. She was always flying, and she did not care that much about stopping on flowers.

Sometimes, they were seeing each other all day long, not leaving each other's sides. They were laughing and talking about everything and anything. Corentin was beaming during these days. He felt invincible, nothing could come between them.

They were Corentin and Joyce; Joyce and Corentin. The rest of the world was not important.

But there were days, sometimes a week during which he did not hear from her. He could see her at training from afar, but once training was over, she was disappearing. Of course, those were the worst day for Corentin. He felt betrayed and lonely. He did not know what she was doing during these days nor with who. He had imagined the worst scenarios already.

But once she was coming back to him, he could not stay mad at her; he was always falling into her arms again. How could he be angry when he had all her attention? He could not risk this attention. He needed it. He needed her next to him, all the time. He did not have time to lose for stupid things. And it was useless to be mad, because she was back now, and he was always convincing himself that it was for good.

Joyce was like a butterfly. She was never back for good; she could not do it. Corentin could not be the only person she was talking to, he knew it. She needed people surrounding her like the beautiful butterfly that she was.

After a year, Corentin realized that Joyce was not only bringing happiness to his life but also a lot of sadness.

One day, she was going to leave, and it was already too late for him: he cared too deeply for her already.