His eyes...

All these days I was visiting him, my dear, my secret and forbidden love. He is sick, he needs help, though rejects it. Seems to be very stubborn. These days he did not talk much. I also kept silence to the full extend understanding the situation I am in. My husband is his friend probably. I need to be as careful as it is only possible not to show that I have any emotions towards him.

Yesterday it was windy and cloudy outside. Plus really cold. We were sitting on his couch, looking through the huge window. He was covered with quilt, grasping with his slender hands a glass of hot tea with lemon. He was so close to me. I felt the warmth of his body through all these cloths. My feelings were tense and fingers trembling. We did not know what to talk about.

- You husband is a very good man, - said he unexpectedly, - don’t you think so?

It was a very strange question, frankly speaking. Plus mentioning my husband, as if remind me about his existance. Making me feel guilty for nothing. Yet.

- Yes, probably he is, - said I.

He glanced at me. I could not understand what his glance expressed. But looking into his eyes was like diving into sky full of rain… Very strange feeling.

Oh… His name is G.