I slowly get up from my seat and head toward the kitchen. I take a glass and pour some cold water. Returning to the room, I see Katrin.
She is sitting motionless like a statue, as if absorbed in her thoughts. In moments like these, it seems that words are unnecessary, but I still approach her.
Taking the glass of water from my hands, she holds it, its cold edges lightly touching her fingers, and then, at some point, she leans forward, her lips touch the rim, and she begins to drink.
"Thanks for the water," the girl lifts her gaze, and a spark appears in her eyes, almost imperceptible, but I am glad it is still there. But then her face turns serious again, and I notice her struggling to take a breath: "Did you decide to wear me out first thing in the morning?"
"I just wanted to have a little fun."
"Thanks again. The battle was epic, I really enjoyed it."
"Me too, you were magnificent," I praise her, not holding back a smile.
I feel pride for her overflowing within me. She deserves this praise. There is so much strength in her that I cannot help but admire. Every gesture of hers makes me feel like I am part of something significant, something great.
She is so alive, full of energy and passion, like a fire that can either warm or burn, but from which you cannot look away. I am proud to be by her side, that I can be part of her life, her world.
"Can I ask you a question?" the question hangs in the air, but I do not know how to phrase it properly. "It concerns yesterday's conversation a little."
I notice how the girl tenses up. Confusion flickers in her eyes, but there is something else — wariness, as if she is trying to anticipate what I will say, trying to find traces of a threat in my words.
She probably thinks I am going to pretend that nothing happened yesterday, that the words and actions Katrin said and did do not matter. But I cannot close my eyes to what happened, and I do not want her to close hers either.
"If you are talking about me kicking you out yesterday, then I have changed my mind. You can stay, I do not mind. And we will continue with the wish as well. Sorry, I was emotional yesterday."
"It is okay. But I am not talking about that."
Rebel Girl, as always, hides her vulnerability behind resilience, but the small details give her away. Gradually, wariness is replaced by doubt, as if she realizes that not everything is under her control. She is used to being strong and not opening up, but I know — she is not yet ready to trust completely.
This is felt in her facial expressions, movements, and the tension hanging in the air. But to move forward, both of us need to be honest, despite the difficulties.
"You told me a lot about your life yesterday," I say softly, trying to choose the right words so as not to trigger her defensive reaction.
But no matter how I try, her expression remains tense. I feel the tension thickening in the air between us, as if any mistake on my part could return us to that darkened corner where she closes herself off and does not want to talk.
We both know that this topic is one that hides too much pain, and I am not sure if she is ready to open up to me so deeply again. In her eyes, there is a shadow — pain, imprinted in those memories she spoke about. It is like something frozen that does not let her go.
"Yes, I know. I did it because I trusted you completely. I hope you will not tell anyone."
"I am not like that, and besides, I have no one to tell."
Katrin freezes, her gaze sliding to the side, as if looking for hidden meanings. Then, having overcome her doubt, she says, as if checking whether it is possible to trust my words:
"And what about Dimka? Aren't you friends?"
I look into her eyes, full of fear and uncertainty, and sigh. No matter how difficult it is, I must explain everything honestly, not leaving any room for doubt.
"As strange as it may sound, I do not have any friends here. Dimka and I are, at most, good neighbors; we just live together, trying not to disturb each other."
"I see," she nods, as if understanding that I am trying to be honest.
"So, here is the question. You told me everything, but you never said how you turned from a book lover into a lover of entertainment."
"Phew, you scared me," she looks at me with surprise and relief, almost laughing. "I thought that you were going to ask me another difficult question."
"You always think that, and in the end, it turns out to be the opposite."
"You might not notice it, but you are no less unpredictable than I am," a spark glitters in her eyes, as if she realizes this only now.
We are both trying to control the situation, to keep everything in check, but at some point, we understand that it is precisely this unpredictability that makes us feel alive, that we are both capable of surprising each other even in the simplest things.
This is a moment of recognition that each of us remains an unsolved mystery to the other to some extent.
"After that incident, I decided to go to a local bar and get drunk. The music there was so cool that I ended up dancing there all night. I liked it so much that I started visiting these places more and more often. As a result, you know," the girl shrugs slightly, as if she herself did not expect everything to end up this way. "I just love fun, that's all."
"And your grandmother? How did she let you go there?"
"Do you remember I talked about a friend who was the sister of my first boyfriend?"
"Yes, but what does she have to do with it?" I try not to give away the surprise that appears in my voice.
"She was my cover, even though she did not know about it. When we were friends, she often visited me and my grandmother. And my grandmother loved her so much that she was ready to let me go to her even for a sleepover. I lied that I was going to her, but went to bars, clubs, and parties."
I cannot help but admire her resourcefulness, how deftly she plays the situation, how skillfully she manipulates the surrounding world in order to maintain her freedom despite all the restrictions. It is both smart and brave — she is ready to be herself even when she has to hide her real life.
"How cunning you are, Rebel Girl!"
"Thanks for the compliment, I appreciate it," Katrin feels embarrassed, but a smile appears on her face.
"And what shall we do today, my very, very cunning Rebel Girl?" I lean toward her and look into her eyes with a slight smile.
She thinks, her gaze dims, and then she winces slightly, as if everything she wants suddenly lost its appeal. It is strange — she is always energetic and ready for adventures, and now... something has changed. I understand her — fatigue creeps in like a shadow, obscuring the brightness.
"I thought about going to a club, but after this little war, I do not want to go anywhere."
"Then let's stay home? Let's spend time with the TV and food, how is my idea?" I move even closer, almost point-blank to her lips.
She looks at me; apparently, she does not want to give up the usual — the movement, the events. But her eyes say that she is ready to stop, at least for the evening.
"I like the idea, but I thought about going to a club, and resting tomorrow, since Friday is a very important day for me. And so I decided for sure that on Thursday I will spend it at home with you, resting and gathering strength. Otherwise, I would have to be home for two days."
Her words fill me with a warm feeling of care. She tries to take everything into account, even what is important to me, without forgetting about her own needs. This is touching, and I feel gratitude for her attention.
I hug her without words, conveying support. We both know that sometimes it is enough to just be near. Then I kiss her on the temple, feeling how she relaxes from this gesture.
"What a silly girl you are! It makes no difference to me where we spend our time, as long as you are with me. With you, it is always fun and interesting."
She feels embarrassed, but I understand that these words mean more to her than I expected. This is an admission that I am here, nearby, and that it is not the outside world that is important, but what is between us. This is sincere, and I feel how all the fatigue disappears, leaving only us.
The following days pass less intensely, but still remain unforgettable. We walk in the park, enjoying the simple joys of life, talking about everything. These are moments when you appreciate the little things, when it is interesting with a person even in mundane situations. We kiss endlessly, as if we cannot get enough of the kisses.
She is everything to me, delightful in every manifestation, and I discover her again and again. Even in the most ordinary places, she becomes the center of my world, a bright light around which my reality revolves.
We run along the paths in a race, laughing like children, carefree. Her laughter is contagious, and I cannot help but laugh along with her. I look at her when, gasping from laughter, she stops to catch her breath. Sparks glitter in her eyes, and her cheeks turn pink.
This image is imprinted in my mind like a painting that one wants to preserve forever. I see her as real, sincere, and this strengthens my attachment to her.
Soon winter will come. I imagine how the world around us will change: the trees will be covered in frost, and the air will become fresh and cool.
Rebel Girl will wrap herself up in a puffer jacket, and her hair will peek out from under the hat, creating a cute messiness. We will walk along snowy alleys, leaving tracks in the snow, go ice skating, holding hands so as not to fall. I imagine us playing snowballs, laughing and shouting when the snow gets under a collar.
Then we will return home, make hot tea with honey and sit by the window, watching how snowflakes whirl behind the glass. This cozy moment — her, me, and winter.
And then spring will come. I already imagine how I will buy her the first flowers — daffodils or tulips — to see her face illuminated with joy from the unexpected gesture. I wonder, does she like flowers? I will need to find that out.
We could walk in the rain, jump over puddles, laughing, not paying attention to wet boots. Or maybe kiss under an umbrella, feeling how raindrops touch us, mixing with our emotions.
Summer will bring its own magic. We could go to another city, visit new places, or just stay here, enjoying the lightness and warmth of her presence. I would suggest going to her grandmother to understand where she got her strength and stubbornness.
Will I be able to be liked by her grandmother? And what if she considers me unsuitable? But if Katrin wants to be with me, nothing else matters.
I imagine us swimming in the sea, laughing as if life was created for such moments. Then we meet the dawn, hugging each other, feeling how the sun touches our faces. I imagine how we could spend every season together, enjoying everything that life gives.
And in every one of these moments, I see her nearby, just as happy, just as real.