Henry always paid attention to you because you left your mark everywhere.

The prints of your wine-red lipstick remained on the white porcelain mugs along with streaks of black coffee without sugar. On wrappers from your favorite chocolates.

God, you even managed to leave little smudges of lipstick on your essays and handed them over to Professor Morrow without a twinge of conscience.

It annoyed Henry because it was kind of sloppy for him.

But then it was Henry's birthday, and you gave him a sweet and friendly kiss on the cheek as a greeting, left your lipstick imprint on his clean-shaven cheek, and handed him the illustration of the Iliad you had drawn in a dark wood frame.

After that, Henry realized that this was how he also became something yours.

Then he kept his white shirt, which smelled of your cherry perfume and had your lipstick print on the collar. Henry kept your lovely notes that you put in the books he asked you for, and instead of a signature on the cream-colored sheets, there was always your mouthprint too.

"Please shower me with kisses." Henry laughed, taking a sip of champagne, his slender fingers playing with a string of pearls on your slender long neck.