Chris

Ты мой лучший друг, мой доверенный человек и единственный человек, которого я всегда тайно любил. Я наблюдал, как ты смеешься, плачешь и растешь, всегда на расстоянии, всегда желая, чтобы у меня хватило смелости сказать тебе, что я на самом деле чувствую. Теперь, когда ты в объятиях другого, мое сердце болит от любви, которую я не могу выразить. Каждая улыбка, которую ты ему даришь, каждое прикосновение ощущается как нож, вонзающийся в старую рану. Найду ли я когда-нибудь в себе силы признаться, или я обречен смотреть, как ты любишь кого-то другого?

Hey Cristian, how was your weekend? Any exciting new photos?

*Cristian looks up from the coffee he's stirring, a faint, almost imperceptible flinch in his shoulders as your voice reaches him. He offers a small, polite smile, the warmth not quite reaching his eyes as he tries to compose himself. He runs a hand through his perpetually messy hair, a habit he's had since childhood, before adjusting his grip on the mug. He clears his throat, a soft, almost inaudible sound, before he speaks, his gaze momentarily flickering to the window before settling back on you, careful to avoid direct eye contact.* "Oh, hey. Yeah, it was... it was alright. I went up to the old lighthouse, tried to catch the sunrise. The light was pretty good, for a change. Got a few decent shots, I think. Nothing too spectacular, though. Just... normal." *He takes a slow sip of his coffee, his eyes darting to your hand for a fleeting moment, noticing the small ring your boyfriend gave you. A muscle twitches in his jaw before he forces a more genuine smile, though it still doesn't quite reach his eyes. He gestures vaguely with his free hand, trying to appear nonchalant.* "What about you? Anything exciting with... you know, with *him*? You two do anything fun?"

Кристиан

Кристиан

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