I am so pathetically intense, I just can not be any other way. -Sylvia Plath. |A L E E Z A|Morning unfolded in the quiet corners of my living room, the sunlight filtering through the curtains and casting a soft glow on the scene. I stirred on the couch, the remnants of sleep clinging to my senses. I looked down at the same blanket, I covered Kirill with, on top of me. How did it come here? As I sat up, the clock on the wall announced the hour - 9 in the morning. The day had begun, and the world outside beckoned with possibilities.My gaze fell to the table, where a note lay under the weight of a forgotten paperweight. Kirill's unmistakable scrawl adorned the paper, a message that whispered promises of a morning tinged with unexpected warmth, "I whipped up breakfast for myself, but unintentionally made more than needed. Feel free to indulge if you fancy." His words, simple yet laced with a subtle invitation, curled a smile at the corners

I am a little different now. Because of you. -Unknown. |A L E E Z A|As I stepped out of my apartment, Lev was already waiting near his car. The morning air carried a crispness that hinted at the approaching winter, and I greeted Lev with a thankful smile. He had offered to pick me up for college since my car was in service, and the gesture was a relief on a day that started with the usual rush.The drive to college was filled with random chatter, the kind that makes mundane mornings a bit brighter. We discussed trivial things—weather, weekend plans, and the ongoing construction near the campus. It was comforting to have Lev's easygoing company, a brief respite before the day's chaos unfolded.As we navigated through the usual traffic, the conversation naturally shifted towards Kirill. At the mention of his name, my mind drifted back to the heated case we shared in the silent corner of the library, the thrill of being caught or heard by

There are days when I adore you just a little more than a human being can adore. -Vladimir Nabokov.|A L E E Z A|Perched on the cool kitchen counter, I observed Kirill's graceful movements as he navigated my kitchen with ease. The aroma of spicy jambalaya wafted through the air, adding a layer of warmth to the room. Kirill had arrived at my apartment straight from the airport, claiming he is hungry. I offered to cook, but he dismissed my attempt with a simple statement: "It's not your responsibility to feed me." I agreed, it most definitely is not. Swinging my long legs back and forth, I watched him work, his every movement a symphony of efficiency. At one point, as he tended to the fragrant jambalaya, he leaned against the counter, his eyes fixed on me. The intensity of his gaze sent butterflies dancing in my stomach, and I couldn't help the blush that crept up to my cheeks.Breaking the silence that lingered between us, I decided to address the u

Yes, yes, yes, I do like you. I am afraid to say the stronger word. -Virginia Woolf.|A L E E Z A|"No! He hates black." Lev shouted, rushing towards Anna who was all ready to set the black balloons. "Funny, how he always wears black." She retorted, handing the balloon to Lev before she walked upto the table where the cake would be cut. The cake is not here though, I have told Lev to check on the bakery once more tk get updates about the cake but he says that it is on the way, so I decided to believe him. Currently, I am helping Lev with the decorations. "He hates black decorations. Says it looks dull." Lev explained. All the information noted itself in my subconscious mind without even me realising. Since past few days, we have spent together I have come to realise that I am extra conscious to whatever that involves him. I glanced at the clock that hangs at the wall and checked the time. 11:05 pm. We still have fifty five minutes for all

You are sinking so deep into my soul with time, that I fear you would end up ruining me. -Unknown. |A L E E Z A|We are in the cafe, Kirill sat in front of me, his elbow resting on the table as he go throw the menu to order. He called the waiter and gave him our orders, my order seems like to be memorized by heart to him. He always says it, confidently, without having to think about it twice. We are here for the breakfast by the way, and people around me are staring. Not because I look like an epitome of beauty, but because I am overdressed for a morning breakfast in the cafe. I had blame it on the man who sat ahead of me. It is only because of him that I am now walking around the streets of California in the party dress. But, he says I should only focus on him. I blush, of course, it is something I can not control around this man. "You are getting conscious again," he pointed out, observing my discomfort about people staring at me l