“I don’t know, grab some lunch or something and then talk” His tone is ignorant.

      He’s still too proud to accept his feelings to himself. He has given in, I feel it but he doesn’t want me to feel it. He wants to keep his cool and let me be avoided and neglected forever. But he can’t fool me, he never can.

      “So now you want to talk?” I ask teasingly.

      “I wanted to talk yesterday too if you were too drunk to remember it”

      “I wasn’t drunk”

      “People don’t faint for fun” He swings his index finger at me.

      “I fainted because of depression”

      “This… what you just did; you could have done it yesterday, then I won’t be having my heart on my throat this morning”

      “Good to know you were worried”

      He opens his mouth to say something but closes it back again.

      I stand where I am and this time, it’s him who takes steps towards me. He approaches me and adjusts my shirt from the shoulders and my hair removing the mess the pillow has made. “You look dead exhausted” He says gliding his thumb over my eyebrows.

      I slightly nod without leaving his eyes. He leans and places a feather-light kiss on my forehead. I breathe in and send a carefree arm around his waist hugging him to me because some facts were stamping inside my mind: for the first time in those six months we had the longest eye-contact ever. For the first time in those six months we talked more than ever and finally for the first time in those six months I knew that my love; it isn’t one-sided anymore.