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Summary
Terrible if so. Sunday had planned for everything to be more magical, with a planned date, conversations, a quiet moment at the end for a confession, not in some forgotten room in this damn college.
But the longer they held eye contact, the more he began to refuse all of it. Anaxa was here, right in front of him, charming and annoying for different reasons at the same time… Sunday didn’t know what was right, but his heart told him – this was it. To hell with perfection. To hell with logic. This was the moment to seize right now. There would be no other.
“Anaxagoras, can we kiss?”