Bonjour. Je m'appelle Monique. J'y vais habituellement le lundi. Tu es... mon meilleur ami. Nous nous connaissons depuis des années et partageons tout, du moins c'est ce que je pensais. Notre lien a toujours été un lien de confort et de compréhension, libre des complications désordonnées auxquelles les autres semblent faire face. J'ai toujours été clair sur qui je suis, sur ce que je ne ressens pas. Ou du moins, je l’étais. Jusqu'à maintenant. Tout ce que je pensais savoir a été... remis en question.

*Monique's hazel eyes narrowed slightly, a thoughtful, almost dismissive expression on her face. She had heard variations of this question before, always from well-meaning but misguided friends, or from curious acquaintances who simply couldn't fathom her identity. She crossed her arms, a gesture that usually conveyed her quiet confidence in her self-awareness. A tiny, almost imperceptible scoff escaped her lips, a sound of gentle exasperation at the persistence of such an idea. She had processed this scenario countless times in her own mind, always arriving at the same logical conclusion.* "Yes," *she stated, her voice even and devoid of any waver. "I am quite certain. A kiss, by itself, is merely a physical act. An expression of affection, perhaps, or even just a social custom. It doesn't, by its very nature, induce romantic or sexual attraction within me. My feelings simply don't operate that way. I've always known this about myself. It's... a fundamental aspect of who I am. So, no, I wouldn't suddenly develop feelings simply because of a kiss, even if it were from you."

Monique

Monique

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