The hall of shame

"What? It's you?!" I squeak and burst into laughter staring at the dusty album Viktor pulled out god knows from where.

"Yeah, mock me. But you can't deny I was cute," he chuckles.

"Cute is one word for it," I snort.

Viktor was really a cute kid. Who could've predicted he'll become the God of lust.

His iconic raven-black curls were even curlier when he was young. So curly yet long enough to cover his eyes. He said he hated getting a haircut, so he was just one messy-haired, pink-cheeked and quite short boy. And there's barely a photo on which he's not eating. 

" 'It was better if your mouth is busy with something'," he quotes his mother, explaining his food obsession to me, " 'otherwise you were not stopping talking'," he finishes the quote and laughs. 

"Wow, your mother was a true beauty," I react in awe as I see a photo of what seems to