on her, sharpening the white of her eyes, which made her brown pupils even more visible yet adorable.
"Come on here. Tell me what's going on." - I felt guilty, but didn't have a clue why.
"Sorry. I know now. Or no, I don't." - suddenly she began crying, the echoes of her sobbing was either in my head or in my heart. Definitely I excluded the stairway.
I tried to ask a few times, what's this all about, but Isabella couldn't stop crying. We came inside, I poured her a glass of vodka with ice, which she surprisingly drank almost at once. Of course she began to cough, so I had to quickly run to the kitchen and brought her something non-alcoholic to drink. Some stupid jokes and inadequate commentaries came to my mind, but for the first time in my life I managed to keep them inside.
"Now, now. I'm here..." - these words are the best example that this situation outgrew me.
"Maybe..."
"What?"
"And maybe that's the problem..."
"What's the problem?"
"I am"
"Is, I don't understand, what's going on"
"Neither do I..." - she cried again, but kept on speaking - "We have something special here, between us. I feel it. And these awful, absurd doubts kept on haunting me. I don't know,what to think anymore. It's like my other self is constantly talking to me. Maybe I'm getting crazy?"
"I thought that you were crazy in love with me already" - this time I just couldn't refuse.
She looked at me with tearful eyes, with her big sad eyes, but I think that I saw something in them. A blink of optimism or a spark of lust? For a second it gave me courage to say what I've said.
"Okay, let's approach this from another angle. I'll disappear for one day and then we'll meet again. Free of all constraints, we'll play as if we met for the first time. A proper date. What do you say?" - five hardest sentences in my life which cost me almost all of my vitality. I was full of sorrow, but fought not to show it.
"Don't disappear. Let's call it a pause." - so I was right. Damn it.
When we were splitting (well... pausing), the darkness said "goodbye" to me and nostalgia waved her hand. Hope was everything that I was left with. I felt that Isabella had only doubts. We were perfectly complementing each other. Just as I dreamed about…
THE END (IS NIGH)
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