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80. A show

Maxim Vasiliev

~•~

Brielle paused and blinked severally. “What?”

I smiled, stroking her hair. “What? You don’t understand English anymore?” I joked. “YA tebya lyublyu.” [I love you.]

“You do?” she questioned like she couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t understand why. I had told her this before but she didn’t respond. If anything, I should be the curious and doubtful one.

“I think I recall telling you this, dorogoy.”

“Yeah, but–“ she blushed. “It never came up after that. I thought it was just a spur-of-the-moment thing. I–“

With my hand wrapped around her neck, I pulled her up and she complied, not hesitating to kiss me back when I kissed her. “I do mean it,” I told her when our lips disentangled. “I love you and I mean it.”

Her face was beet red. “I love you too.”

I grinned. It was not like I was being arrogant, but except she was a really good actress, I already knew she loved me back. Hell, she even loved me first. There was no other explanation for all the shit she endured from me. “
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