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A few pens littered the floor, forming a thin rainbow over the soft, white carpet. Victoria arranged them patiently, as she was too distracted to continue her activity. Her friend's blank expression scatters,' made Mark intimately uncomfortable. As the warm sunlight penetrated the blinds, he continually thought of a word to initiate a subject. The situation was quite delicate, he had also been able to, in view of the fact that the environment was dressed in a very agonizing mourning. She didn't match those clothes, the colorful pieces definitely fit like a glove, if contrasted with the natural beauty that undermined from her face, to the soles of her feet.

ㅡYou know, Vic,oso he began fearfully, his hair is magnificent today ㅡits not as if his speech was the cry that would save the homeland, however, it was enough to get the others attention. His reddened brows arched, making the confusion evident in his mind.

ㅡ He's absolutely the same as every day ㅡ he said in contradiction.

ㅡ None of that, see, he's so shiny, wavy, hydrated.ㅡ It wasn't silly, it was just a little haphazard for the occasion. The girl was discouraged, however, Mark had the power to make her think more about things, including this one. ㅡ You can even surf these strawberry-scented waves!

ㅡ At least you got the scent of the shampoo I'm using right.ㅡ She laughed weakly and involuntarily.

ㅡ It was a well-placed kick, I'd say ㅡ he admitted sincerely, eliciting a slurred breath from Victoria.

ㅡ So what do you think about giving this one and helping me with this question? ㅡ it was a good excuse to retire once more, however, it wouldn't be so simple when it came to Mark.

ㅡI'm thinking, be patient ㅡhis pencil scribbled two or three sentences under the question in his notebook. Victoria possessed an irrelevant amount of mood to be critical, so she just made a more organized copy of hers, not checking if she was accurate or not. ㅡ How about doing that inlaid braid you do when we go out? It looks very beautiful on youㅡ they were in her hair again.

ㅡ Not when you wear an outfit like thatㅡ she referred to the long black dress that cradled her. The boy did tsk tsk with his tongue, letting his face fade a little, causing his brown bangs to fall over his eyes. To restrain her, he brought his index finger there, gently pushing her away. It was a charming habit.

ㅡThen put on another one, a flowered dress, any other that makes her comfortable ㅡ the main objective of the conversation he started, was to induce her to break free and run free and happy out into the world. It was obvious that he wanted to be by her side at all times, but he could no longer bear to see that this one refused to pass, even though the hands of the clock worked normally.

ㅡ Seems like a bad idea for today ㅡ none of the advances seemed to work, it pissed him off. It took patience and caution. He groped for courage in the seat of her chest, dropping his schoolwork to one side, then faced her seriously.

ㅡ Your mother loved you very much, didn't she? We know she'd give anything to be in his place, on the other hand, we know also thats impossibleㅡa storm was threatening to trickle down Victoria's pale face, starred by tiny freckles. She hated crying under someone's surveillance.

ㅡ We should finish this here tomorrow, right? ㅡ the chanting came out flawed, the lump in her throat was crushing her vocal chords, preventing her from speaking firmly.

ㅡ You don't need to be strong in my presence.ㅡ Her hand landed on Vic's slender fingers, and Vic closed his eyes in shock. ㅡ No need to be afraid to show me the damage this has caused you, I want to understand.

Vic's father had just left. The mirrors that touched the ceiling reflected countless happy scenes, however, he was not present in them. That wasn't Mr. Sparks' house, his house was the world. The beautiful furniture that spread through the rooms, the picture frames, the garden, everything was organized by Abby; he never praised her for it. Maybe he didn't care. The climate that hovered in the environment, a month ago, was tenebrous; the singing of birds in the bedroom window, was swallowed by the silence that echoed in the corners. No one dared lament aloud; it would be stupid to cry between four walls that rarely saw and resolved the reason for crying, in this case, Van Sparks.

ㅡ You know, Markㅡ he paused as a salty droplet collapsed ㅡ this feeling is so weird.

ㅡ Which one, Vic?

ㅡ I miss a face that disappeared in my mind He understood. It had been a few months since Van had come to Boston, excited and indifferent as to the reasons. But, he thought, was it possible to forget about someone's features in a short period of time?

ㅡ At least you still feel something, even if you don't know what they arethese sensations ㅡ the conversation was taking unknown directions, they looked at each other, realizing it. ㅡ seems scary, I, for example, don't really like the idea of ​​seeing Monalisa just as a poorly drawn line.

ㅡ What do you mean?

ㅡ In your head it must be like this, like, someone spilled dark paint over his dad's face, leaving the picture dirty and unrecognizable. Monalisa wouldn't be Monalisa without her big forehead, rosy cheeks and that brown hair. Her father is not her father without everything in him. ㅡ the boy didn't know if he had explained it well, however, from her friend's point of view, it was clear.

ㅡ So... I'm not necessarily missing him, right? ㅡ wanted to know .

ㅡ Yeah, it could be ㅡ No, it couldn't. She really had become the victim of an undocumented longing.

ㅡ Things would have been easier if he hadn't gone ㅡ despite the boy's efforts, there was still something about her that didn't take her out of this sad chapter. Deep down, he understood that he couldn't change pages against her will.

ㅡ I disagree ㅡ his fingers messed up the rest of the things on the floor; he wanted to leave them as they had been at the beginning.

ㅡAre you saying it was a good thing, Mark?ㅡ Before looking at him with too much disbelief, Victoria held back her sob, in an immediate sniffle.

ㅡ You two would suffer one way or another.ㅡ Frustrated, she lifted her shoulders, as well as her entire body, soon. Standing up, she tucked both of her cold hands into the pockets of her shorts. Her field of vision was summed up in Vic's watery eyes, what made him uneasy was the fact that he couldn't wipe them away.

ㅡ You don't understand about matches.

ㅡ Think of it as a new date. He ll do what he likes , hell meet a new place. You have each other as usual, only now you know perfectly well that it's just the two of you, in everything. At the table, in the car, on a weekend. You can get over it, Vic, I want to prove to you that outside of this double bubble, there are people alive to hold your hand.

What drove two young men, only thirteen, to discuss something like this? the heart is a complicated organ. He could just knock and keep the rest of the body fueled with life, however, he manipulates us subliminally. As Mark walked to the door, sadder than she was, Vic reflected on her words. Her mother and she were always alone, representing the figures of greatest example and inspiration for each other. What changed now?

The empty .