“Can you keep a secret? Something I’m not supposed to tell you but I just have to because I need to tell you everything?”
“I will never say a word to anyone.”
“Ok. It was Snow White who told me.”
The Witcher laughed and brougt his palm to his forehead.
“What did she say?”
“No, I’m not going to tell you that!”
He tickled me until I gave in.
“Ok ok. She told me that you had different views on what you were for each other. What you had was just an affair to her. She said she was endlessly sorry for hurting you. And she warned me to never hold an English presentation in front of you.”*
“I knew she was still mad about that.”
“I’m only going to ask you this question once: Snow White is long over for you?”
“Yes.” Without hesitation.
I lay down again and rested my head on his bare chest.
“You know that you are more than an affair to me?”
“I know. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I don’t like the word affair. It reduces the relationship between two people to a very physical spectrum of interactions. In a way it is the opposite of platonic.
What the Witcher and I have cannot be sorted anywhere. We don’t see each other more often than before. Every once in a while I have work to do at the capital and stay with him for a night or two. Sometimes we sleep with each other, another time we spend my entire visit playing video games and talking. I love it when he leans over to kiss me in the elevator on our way to his place, pressing me against the wall. But if we end up there without having touched, it is fine too. I appreciate him as a person first, as a lover second.
Since we broke the spell, there is no restriction anymore, but also no compulsion. No assumptions or expectations. Just us.
* Shortly after their “breakup” the Witcher gave her presentation at University a devastating review and she had always wondered if he had been mad about what had happened or only triggered by her use of Comic Sans.