sång för döva öron 9
“God morning,” he said and I could barely read it with the hair in his face. I smiled at him and curled down close to him under the quilt. He put his arms around me and kissed me again.
“I want to tell you,” I wrote on the note. He read it and smiled. He gave me a cup of coffe and sat down on a chair next to me.
“Good,” he said.
And I wrote it all down. Everything I had felt the last days, and everything I feared of and I told him about the pain and frustration of watching my mother.
Tears fell down from my face and onto the paper. He handed me a handkerchief.
“You can stay here, a couple of days,” he told me. I smiled gratefully. It was what I needed.
“Thank you,”
He answered me with a kiss.
jag dör! D:
fan vad bra. :o<333
Du skriver fantastiskt bra! :)