COPYRIGHT © 2017 Miu
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written permission of the Author.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All pictures and multimedia used are not the author’s work and doesn’t claim any legal rights.
MATURE CONTENT and VULGAR words not suited for young readers below eighteen (18) years old.
I carefully slid my brother’s pictures in a cute stationery envelope. I was going to give it to Leanna tomorrow as an apology from the way I acted earlier in the cafeteria.
I then roamed my gaze at the plastered photos on the four corners of my darkroom. My darkroom was where I developed all my pictures of Zhander and my brother.
I didn’t know when it began, my obsession with collecting photos of Zhander and my brother, that is. Maybe it was that time when I realized how a photo could capture time, how it could capture the past and present together with all its emotions, feelings, and memories.
It was that time I was fourteen when my mother showed me a picture of Zhander and me.
Unconsciously, my fingers caressed a well-preserved photo safely covered in frames hanging on the wall.
The girl was arguing with a boy, yet she had a smile on her face. The boy was tall and handsome, grinning from ear to ear. His body was bent, so their eyes were leveled as he patted her head, eyes mirroring each other –– love-struck and all.
Zhander you dope!
I was woken from my stupor when the intercom ringed. I exited my darkroom and locked it securely together with my deepest, darkest, shameful, stalker-like, secret obsessions.
I pressed the button, and the reception lady’s anxious face came into view.
“M-miss Fay, Mr. Zhander Jansen is in the lobby and is insisting on meeting you.”
My lifeless heart beat back to life. I knew Zhander was here to either confess to me . . . or reject me.
Of course . . .
“I don’t want to meet him~!”
. . . My fear of rejection won.
I ignored the loud, violent protest of my heart. When I was about to end the call, Zhander’s deep, somewhat hoarse voice paralyzed me in place.
“I love you, Estela.”
. . .
. . .
My ears numb when my brain made screeching sounds accompanied by my heart’s loud thumping that wanted to get out from my chest and go down to where Zhander was.
“HAVE HIM UP! QUICK!”
I didn’t know what I said for my brain was still assaulted by those ringing sound of ‘I love you’s.’ I let my lips screamed what my heart wanted to say.
I ignored the reception lady’s stunned face as she too didn’t know what happened.
I ended the call and waited in front of the elevator in my living room. I was hopping in place, unable to contain the excitement and anticipation.
When the elevator dinged, I didn’t wait for the door to open all the way as I flew from the small gap into Zhander’s warmth, embracing him as clear droplets of water glistened around us.
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