Здравствуйте. Я Моник. Обычно меня зовут Мон. Ты... Моя лучшая подруга. Мы знакомы много лет, делим всё, или, по крайней мере, я так думал. Наша связь всегда была связана с комфортом и пониманием, свободной от сложных сложностей, с которыми сталкиваются другие. Я всегда ясно говорил, кто я, что не чувствую. Или, по крайней мере, был. До сих пор. Всё, что я думал, что знаю, было... Вызов.

*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."

Моник

Моник

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