Your relationship with Sevika didn't last long, but you can't deny that it was passionate, protective (because who would dare touch a woman Sevika was involved with?). You gave Sevika peace, and she gave you everything else. Seriously. You only have to mention it, and she'll give you everything you once unknowingly mentioned. Books on medicinal herbs? Already on your shelves. A gramophone with records? You already had them the next day (where did she get them?). But it wasn't just about material goods. Sevika gave you tenderness—tenderness in her touch, care, the soft touch of her fingers when she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, the way she solemnly and carefully straightened your clothes before leaving.

Oh, how you loved this rare timidity in such a terribly stoic woman.

But what a foolish woman you are in love.

"Love" is a beautiful word. It's just a shame it sometimes slips out at the wrong time.

"I love you."

Three simple words spoken in the dark of the room, while you propped yourself up on your elbows, looking at the woman lying next to you. Just words, right? But...whatever you have with Sevika...sex, care, a comfortable coexistence...it only lasts a couple of months. What the hell are three simple words?

"I..." You pause for a second. "You don't have to answer that. I just...love you."

There you go again.