It’s so awful that I gave John a resounding slap. Now he will probably never forgive me. But I’m not ready to listen to such frank things yet. Even if I care about a person, it doesn’t give him the right to talk to me from above. Of course, I have to apologize, although I don’t really want to. Now I’ll have to ask him for help all the time. And why don’t they send me home? Better Aela than John. Although I don’t want to bother anyone. Well, I don’t have a choice. My leg is terribly heavy. I’m learning to use crutches, and it’s completely inconvenient. I wish I could get better sooner and live alone again to my heart’s content. Since I came to Edinburgh, I’ll definitely find a job in a gallery here. And my English is fine, I don’t have to pick my words, like I did with Italian.


    “Hey,” John calls out to me, “get in the car, I’ll help.”


    “Let me do it myself.”


    “This is no time to be stubborn, Christina,” he says, looking at me intently.


    Sitting in the backseat of the car, I look in the mirror and see his face focused on the road. Focusing on something suits him. I missed him so much…


    “Hey, Christina, stop fantasizing!” I pull myself up.


    “Do you like looking at me?” he asks mockingly.


    I look away.


    “No, no, nothing like that...”


    He is clearly pleased.


    “You’re not very good at lying.”


    A few minutes later we pulled up to some apartment building. John stoped.


    “Well, let’s slowly get to the elevator.”


    He holds out his hand to me. I grab it.


    Soft and warm... I wish he would stroke me with it. Now, Christina, don’t be a wimp, control yourself.


    As soon as the door closes, I start to feel uncomfortable. John seems to be a neat freak. But I’ve always had a creative mess, although Eugene’s grandmother tried to make me keep my room clean. But I didn’t learn that lesson well. I sit down on the ottoman in the hallway with John’s help.


    “Let me help you take off your shoes. Don’t mind, you can’t do it yourself.”


    He squats down and helps, and then looks at me again as if he’s waiting for something. Then he takes me to the living room and sits me down on the sofa.


    “Wait for me a minute.”


    JOHN.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    “You don’t have anything to tell me?”


    “Ouch!”


    I raise an eyebrow.


    “You were going through my things?!” she asks indignantly.


    “Well, actually, I laid it all out. You’re not here for just one day. I even gave you a work area, in case you hadn’t noticed,” I say irritably.


    Her face becomes suspiciously calm.


    “You could have warned me, but thank you for taking care of me.”


    No, no, honey, you can’t get away with it.


    I lean towards her and say quietly and drawlingly:


    “But this is my sweater. You’ve had it for so many years. It’s not an accident, right? Even if you deny it, I won’t believe you.”


    Chris’s face is still calm, but her eyes are panicked. She’s probably thinking of an answer. I smile charmingly.


    “Now I won’t take my eyes off you. I will always follow you wherever you go. Consider me your personal stalker. No matter how you feel about me, you will have to agree with this. You will not cope without my help anyway. But you will tell me eventually how my thing ended up in your suitcase, and even separately from the rest in a bag. I am very curious to hear your version. Doesn’t mean that I will believe it, because you will definitely try to come up with something plausible. But this is your attempt to open up.”


    She says nothing and only nods.


    CHRISTINA.


    This is a failure. When I see that he is wearing this sweater, I try to look unperturbed. But, God, how it suits his athletic figure. It will be difficult to avoid answering this question now. I need to think of something quickly. But nothing comes to mind. Besides, every time he is this close, I start to go crazy. When he finishes his monologue, I do not answer. My mind is filled with completely different thoughts. I need to get well soon. John leaves me alone and goes to the nearest pastry shop. He thinks that I have become too thin.


    “Hello, Celeste?”


    “Oh, Christina, I am so glad! How are you feeling?!” an excited voice comes from the phone.


    “You already know, right?”


    “Of course, your family called about your remaining things. We sent them, have you received them yet?”


    “Yes, thank you, signora. I am fine. Only my leg is broken.”


    “What a horror. Get well soon. I hope whoever did this will be held accountable under the law.”


    “Sure, don’t worry about it. Tell the little one that her lessons will resume in about three weeks. And say hi to everyone from me.”


    “Sure. Don’t get lost again. We were so worried until your parents called us.”


    “Bye.”


    Well, that’s one thing sorted out. Now I can look around. John’s apartment is bright and minimalist. I like it here. I make my way to the bedroom. The bed is big. I notice something in a frame on the nightstand. I came closer. There’s a childhood photo from Christmas. I was photographed once, even though my grandmother was against it. However, I notice that John is standing behind me. Back then, with that ridiculous curly hair that my grandmother tried so hard to curl, even when he grew up. I smile, and he sticks out his tongue surreptitiously. Nothing has changed. I’m twenty-three, and he’s twenty-eight, and he’s still just as much of a bully. But I love him even like this.


    “I bought donuts with different fillings. Let’s go eat. Oh…” He comes over and takes the photo.


    “I have my secrets too.”


    The evening has come too quickly. It’s time to go to bed. I pull on my pajamas while sitting on the bed, but I can’t put on my shorts. My leg won’t let me.


    “Let me help you.”


    John just got out of the shower. He’s wearing pajama bottoms, but no shirt. Did he forget or is he teasing me?


    I try not to look at him. His torso looks too tempting, and when he leans toward me, it takes my breath away. He squats down, lifts my leg, and pulls my shorts on.


    “Now get up and pull them all the way up. Like this.”


    He smells so good. I’m probably going to go crazy. I can’t show it.


    “I want to sleep,” I start whining.


    He lays me down and carefully covers me with a blanket. And he does it so gently and carefully. It seems like a new side of him opens up for me.