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♡

notes. notes... notes had always been something deeply personal. a blank sheet of paper, a lined page, the torn corner of a newspaper — it never really mattered. what mattered was what they carried: something intimate, built entirely on trust.

well... not always.

could there really be anything intimate between two mischievous little schoolchildren?

hopefully not.

so what were we talking about again?

right. notes.

madeleine couldnt remember ever receiving any. not the kind her parents left in a hurry to say theyd be home late, but the other kind. the ones asking if you wanted to hang out after class. the ones complimenting the new ribbon in your hair. the ones whispering secrets about the girl from class who had kissed a boy for the first time the day before. the playfully insulting ones whose contents were never meant to be read aloud.

maybe shed simply never become close enough to anyone to be included in that kind of honesty.

apparently, though, fate intended to make up for that tiny fifteen-year gap in her life tenfold.

all within a single school year.

not all at once, though.

like the other eleven girls admitted that year, madeleine cherin began her september sitting behind a classroom desk at voltaire high. it felt strange seeing boys in the classroom. their looks lingered longer than she was used to. they were unfamiliar — not the kind shed endured back at her old school because of her own oddness, the quiet lack of interest she showed toward other people. thankfully, they werent aimed solely at her. well... not only at her. there were four boys in the class shed been assigned to. quite a lot, considering the number of girls. and the one whod attracted the most attention since morning was sitting immediately to her right. it was embarrassing to admit, but shed been a little relieved when the student who had taken the front desk before they arrived had been asked to move farther back.

because it meant she could sit beside annick.

she still wasnt particularly fond of boys. the two girls who had introduced themselves as michele and simone immediately became absorbed in talking to each other, so having at least some female company nearby — even if that company didnt seem especially fond of her either — was comforting.

especially when monsieur douillard, their latin teacher, appeared determined to pretend the girls didnt exist. more than once he ignored both annicks raised hand and madeleines. neither of them could do much to help the other, but at least they exchanged sympathetic glances when a bespectacled boy from the back rows finally had to remind the teacher — none too politely — that the girls were present and participating in the lesson as well. so by the time the long-awaited words, "write down your homework" were spoken, madeleine was honestly relieved for the class to be over. she opened the pencil case that had survived several school years without needing to be replaced...

and blinked in surprise.

not because of the new pencils and pens. because folded neatly into a tiny square sat a slip of white paper. she wasnt the type to keep random scraps of paper. certainly not inside her pencil case, one of the few places she cared to keep impeccably neat.

she desperately wanted to know what secret it held. unfortunately, laubrac — and michele, who had defended him — had already been thrown out for doing almost the exact same thing. she wasnt eager to join them in the hallway.

madeleine held herself back. she really did. just... not for very long. she convinced herself there was a perfectly reasonable explanation. maybe her mother had decided to surprise her and, for once, had chosen to leave a note instead of simply saying it aloud. it wasnt something her mother would normally do — she was far too straightforward for that — but the possibility was enough. taking advantage of the fact that monsieur douillard had wandered toward the back of the classroom and, as usual, wasnt paying much attention to either of them, madeleine unfolded the paper. the note had been torn from a lined notebook page. the handwriting wasnt elegant, but it was perfectly readable.

'i think ive fallen in love. i think ive finally learned what love at first sight feels like'.

it was fortunate the teacher wasnt looking. otherwise he surely wouldve noticed the expression that flashed across her face and demanded an explanation. because madeleine wasnt amused. she wasnt amused by the stupid joke. she wasnt amused that someone had touched her belongings. she only hoped they hadnt opened her sketchbook, that wouldve been enough to make her heart stop.

but this... this felt almost as invasive. even if it had been addressed to someone else, making a game out of something as important as that wouldve been disgusting.

unless... no, it couldnt be. she wasnt worth something like that. especially not on the very first day.

she refused to see the note as anything other than a joke.

while monsieur douillard discussed this years curriculum with one of the students, madeleine quietly looked around the classroom, searching for the culprit. the conclusion she reached was simple: someone had decided to play a childish prank on a foolish girl. none of her classmates looked particularly suspicious, and she doubted any of them spent their free time attending acting classes.

when she turned around, she found annick staring first at her, then at the note, wearing a puzzled expression. wonderful, now not only did madeleine look like a paranoid fool, someone else had witnessed the whole embarrassing situation. annick had probably already read everything. or maybe that was simply what her face always looked like. at the moment, madeleine genuinely couldnt remember. there was nothing left to do. she simply angled the paper a little farther toward her.

"did you happen to see anyone going through my bag?" she whispered, quietly enough that nobody else would overhear.

"no."

short and simple. whoever had written the note certainly wouldnt expose themselves so easily.

well, now three people knew the secret.

madeleine folded the paper again and tucked it deep into her pencil case. even so, one corner continued sticking out. against the darkness inside, the tiny white square looked just as out of place as the entire situation did in her life.

after that lesson, lunch in the cafeteria felt anything but comfortable. it was already the first day at a new school for all twelve girls, and now there was the added awareness that somewhere in the room, some boy was probably watching her, waiting to see whether shed react to his little joke. the thought alone was enough to ruin her appetite. it felt as though the slightest wrong move would earn her an even bigger humiliation — only this time in front of everyone.

so madeleine, seated across from annick at one of the girls tables, buried herself in her sketchbook. plates, sauce bottles, napkin holders — anything became a subject worth drawing if it meant she didnt have to acknowledge the eyes fixed on their table. or rather, she hoped they werent fixed on her alone. sorry, girls.

the moment henri pichon came flying straight into annicks plate to the sound of roaring laughter from the rest of the cafeteria, ignoring everything around her became impossible. madeleine looked up.

michele, who had clearly reached the end of her patience, wasnt interested in holding back anymore. every ounce of her anger, and simones, sitting beside her, was directed toward the neighboring table. toward the bespectacled boy who had spoken up for her and annick during latin class. the one who, judging by the increasingly heated exchange, was called descamps.

the argument unfolded exactly as it should have — the girls held their ground. and it ended with an angry glare behind a pair of glasses sweeping over everyone seated at their table. everyone except, it seemed, madeleine.

she reached only one conclusion: whether descamps was actually an idiot remained to be seen, it was too early to judge. but still he struck her as the sort of person it was better not to involve yourself with unless absolutely necessary.

still she couldnt help noticing his inclination toward drawing, even if the results happened to be remarkably vulgar.

madeleine could disappear into drawing for hours without realizing time had passed. she had never chosen it — drawing simply found her. a neighbors dress she happened to glimpse on the street, the first lilac blossoms of spring, a memory of a solitary afternoon spent somewhere beyond the city — nothing escaped it. not even madeleine herself. countless sleepless nights and the dark circles beneath her eyes existed because of it. they loved each other. they hated each other. but perhaps drawing was the only 'person' capable of enduring her for as long as she needed.

she had become lost in it once again while the class waited for english to begin. according to the endless conversations echoing around the room, their english teacher was new to voltaire high. it was the only piece of gossip that had managed to catch her attention.

right up until the deafening crash of rushing water and something plastic hitting the floor silenced the classroom all at once.

startled, madeleine looked toward the doorway. then she froze. michele stood there, dripping, water streamed from her hands onto the already soaked floor, while her pale dress had become almost transparent.

madeleine was out of her seat before shed had time to think. she pulled off the brand-new cardigan her mother had only recently bought from a family acquaintance. perhaps she moved a little faster and a little more dramatically than anyone expected from the quiet girl who barely spoke to anyone. in the end, though, her help wasnt needed. a young woman already stood in the doorway, wrapping michele in a dark coat. she was, apparently, the new english teacher.

michele was led away. madeleine didnt spend long wondering what would happen next — she knew michele would manage, she would stay just as strong as before and continue meeting people like descamps with her head held high. it was dim who occupied madeleines thoughts. or rather what on earth had everyone found so funny? their eyes sparkled with amusement. their smiles stretched from ear to ear. all because of the crude drawing of a woman scrawled across the blackboard.

apparently, shed been far too quick to count his artistic talent among his better qualities.

she looked at him again. disgusting.

for a brief moment, though, something seemed to shift. perhaps seeing not one but two girls silently watching their childish behavior finally had some effect. his gaze slid away from annick before settling on madeleine. the amusement faded almost immediately. his friends, however, kept laughing as loudly as ever.

fortunately for michele, and for simple fairness the noise was interrupted by the arrival of a tall student in a suit who stepped into the classroom. 'interrupted' wasnt quite the right word. 'redirected' fit better. after all, writhing in pain could technically be considered an activity too.

descamps got the worst of it. a punch to the face. then came the groans, he muffled cries., he shouting, his voice pressed helplessly into the floor... drops of blood stained the reddish wooden boards beneath him...

madeleine only came back to herself when all that remained of descamps were small crimson puddles scattered across the classroom floor.

her cardigan was still clutched uselessly in her hand.

she slowly sat back down. closed her sketchbook, looked at annick, whose beautiful eyes were still just as wide with shock. the english teacher returned. she introduced herself as madame couret. then she began the lesson, although no one in the room was capable of thinking about english grammar anymore.

the only person madeleine could think about was descamps.

she felt sorry for him. she felt sorry for michele too. but michele was unharmed. physically, at least. as for mentally... perhaps that would only become clear after three years at voltaire high. because if every day turned out anything like the first one...

no wonder why the note never crossed madeleines mind again that day. instead, she spent the rest of it wrestling with her own conscience. a girl had been humiliated. surely that should have been all she was thinking about — how to support her, how to help. and yet every conversation drifting through the hallways revolved around the same boy. the one who was 'probably going to lose his eye'. those whispers filled teachers and students conversations. and every single rumor only made madeleine resent the fact that she possessed compassion at all. because she couldnt stop feeling sorry for him. not for what he had done. for what had been taken from him. for the soul that might never again see the world with the same brightness it once had. the memory of those vibrant colors would remain forever like phantom pain beneath an eyelid that now covered nothing at all.

she didnt think about the little notebook page again until a week later.

♡

that was the day the protagonist of everyones conversations alongside the twelve girls finally returned to voltaire high. joseph descamps. he had risen from the dead — there was simply no other explanation for the chilling composure with which he crossed through the school gates. no matter what anyone had been doing, heads turned toward him without fail. they drifted toward him like moths to a flame. and he burned their wings just as any ordinary fire would — openly, deliberately. descamps looked angry, not merely upset, but bitter at the entire world for taking away the one thing that had belonged to him since birth — a part of himself. he no longer looked simply neat. his shirt had lost the soft warmth of plain cotton. instead, it caught the light like cold pearl. it hung carelessly from his shoulders, as though he couldnt have cared less whether he wore that shirt, something far louder, or nothing at all. the lightness that had once lingered in his eyes, however many there were now, was gone, so was the childish mischief, so was that faint, constant mockery that had seemed aimed at everyone around him. even their color appeared a few shades duller.

"do you think hell change?" annick asked. there was no need to clarify who she meant.

there couldnt have been a more obvious subject.

"i think he already has."

descamps return caused a sensation. if he had been a celebrity, his photograph wouldve undoubtedly landed on the front page of the most widely read newspaper in the country. every conversation circled back to him, to the disciplinary hearing awaiting the student responsible for taking his eye, which, somehow, meant talking about descamps all over again. even during recess, when nearly everyone scattered across the enormous courtyard, it felt as though all anyone could see was the white medical bandage covering one side of his face.

madeleine wasnt innocent either. she kept catching herself staring. shed notice the stark white circle against his skin, quickly look away, only to find her gaze drifting back moments later. she wondered what he was feeling. the thought twisted unpleasantly somewhere inside her, as though shed witnessed something no one should ever have to see. which, of course, she had.

the only thing capable of distracting her was physical education. not because she suddenly stopped feeling sorry for descamps — because she started feeling sorry for herself instead.

madeleine hated showing too much skin. if she wore a short dress, there were always tights. if the weather was unbearably hot, shed choose a longer, lighter skirt instead. only necessity ever convinced her otherwise. gym class at her old school had been one of those necessities, and now there were boys in the changing room corridor. boys who, somehow, seemed even less covered than the girls. she lowered the bag hanging from her shoulder as much as she could, trying to hide behind it on the walk into the gym.

only after annick raised her hand did the teacher finally acknowledge the girls existence. a moment later, four pairs of eyes settled on the climbing rope hanging from the ceiling. today was turning into one disaster after another and this was simply another item on the list.

madeleine had never been athletic. anything involving sports usually ended badly. but her arms were a problem of their own. drawing hands and shading portraits, surprisingly enough, had never built much muscle.

three students had already conquered the rope and were now sitting comfortably on the mats, watching the others play.

honestly, madeleine wouldve preferred joining them. she wouldve gladly taken a ball to the head, waited for the ringing in her ears to fade, endured every bit of i, if it meant not having to climb.

but no one was about to invite her. and shed probably embarrass herself there too. better to stay here — at least the exit was closer.

she grabbed hold of the rope, her first attempt wasnt exactly impressive. she tried to remember how shed done this years ago in middle school. bent her knees, pinned the rope between her legs, already feeling it scrape painfully against her inner thighs, locked it beneath her foot, straightened her legs, pulled herself upward. her arms trembled almost immediately. she repeated the movement. it felt even worse. maybe climbing back down was the smarter decision.

she started descending. one careless movement, one hand slipped too quickly. the next thing she knew, she crashed down. technically onto the mats, but that hardly mattered while she was laying there with her face hidden behind her hair, mortified by how clumsy shed managed to be.

quite a few people had probably witnessed her spectacular dive. annick, thankfully, stepped in before she could look around. she blocked madeleines view of everyone else, helped her back onto her feet, and quietly stayed beside her.

in other words: she gave her enough time for the color to leave her cheeks.

the teacher asked whether she was alright. michele and simone wanted to know what had happened. apart from that, it couldve gone worse. though her palms still stung unpleasantly.

when the next lesson began with madame giraud, madeleine kept her eyes fixed on the floor. anything was better than risking someone elses gaze.

today, they were choosing the class representative. she had absolutely no interest in the position. not only did the teacher responsible for their class seem to dislike the girls from the very beginning, but madeleine herself had no desire to become any more involved with her classmates than circumstances already required.

she slipped into her usual seat. for once, there was an advantage to sitting there. shed only have to look at annick and the teacher.

and then she noticed it.

another note. the same lined notebook paper, the same hurried, slightly crooked handwriting. only this time, it hadnt been folded. it lay openly between the pages of her notebook, as though whoever had left it hadnt even tried to hide it.

she lowered her eyes to the message.

'be more careful during gym. id like to keep seeing you alive. and beautiful'.

a week had passed since the first note. after putting it away in the drawer of her bedroom without ever asking herself why shed kept it, shed almost forgotten it existed. until now...

at least one thing had become clear — whoever this mysterious prankster was, he belonged to her class. unless hed been following her closely enough to watch someone elses gym lesson. she wasnt sure which possibility was worse.

either way, he had seen her fall. how humiliating. then again, that had probably been exactly what hed wanted.

her thoughts were interrupted by madame girauds clear, commanding voice as she began what sounded suspiciously like a battle over the position of class representative.

didier felbec spoke first. he sat to madeleines right, making him easy enough to watch. shed assumed the nomination would be over quickly and history class would continue as normal.

then descamps spoke. the sound of his voice startled her enough that she turned around to make sure shed heard correctly. she had. descamps stood beside the third row. shifting his weight from one foot to the other, rolling a pen between his fingers, licking and biting his lips.

was he... nervous? descamps?

shed never doubted he was capable of ordinary emotions. still, seeing him unable to hide them felt strangely unexpected.

especially after henri pichon admitted where descamps answer had come from. something in him seemed to collapse. he hadnt sounded particularly confident to begin with: hed spoken quietly, carefully. now he looked completely deflated. he ignored whatever his deskmate muttered about pichon winning the position. his gaze settled somewhere beyond the room. he disappeared into himself.

did he really want the role that badly? why?

"mademoiselle cherin?" madame girauds firm voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

and rightly so.

"would you mind turning back around?"

"im sorry, madame giraud."

by the end of the day, calling it good would have been a stretch. it hadnt been too bad — at least not until madame giraud scolded her for paying so little attention in class. it had been bearable — right up until the news spread that jean-pierre, micheles brother, had gotten away with nothing more than an official reprimand. and then it became bad. because, apparently, the whole thing had been quietly brushed aside due to a teachers competition monsieur douillard intended to enter together with magnan.

it was unfair. painfully so. madeleine herself had neither gained nor lost anything from the situation. even so, how had he gotten off so easily?the competition would come and go, hed finish the school year without trouble, pass his exams, and move on with his life without ever looking back.

but descamps? descamps, who had been born with — if not perfect — at least decent eyesight, would spend the rest of his life learning how to live without it.

it was difficult. it was bitter.

leaving the school grounds, madeleine headed toward home. she still needed to stop by the little grocery shop on the way.

she was about to turn onto the longer road between the buildings when she stopped. three boys in familiar jackets were sitting on the stone steps. vergoux, dupin and descamps. the last of them sat slightly apart from the others, smoking.

once again, madeleine caught herself staring. it was becoming a habit.

in that moment, he looked like the tragic main character of one of those russian poems whose entire inner world had been swallowed by grief.

and once again she felt sorry for him. again, again and again. she didnt know how he managed it. perhaps he wasnt doing anything deliberately. perhaps he really was just hurting. and she really did want to do something about it.

"descamps." her voice was as dry and emotionless as ever. it had always sounded that way, it still did. "im sorry. about your eye. and about jean-pierre."

he turned toward her, so did dupin and vergoux. maybe she looked ridiculous. it hardly mattered.

"i dont need your pity."

no matter how hard he tried, descamps couldnt hide everything: the way he looked away, the tightness in his mouth, the cigarette crushed hard against the stone beneath his hand.

"good."

at least that lifted a small weight from madeleines chest. if she hadnt said anything, she knew shed have spent the entire walk home replaying the moment over and over in her head. now her conscience was clear.

or at least she wanted to believe it was.

"why did you talk to him?" annicks voice came from her right, making madeleine flinch slightly.

annick was looking at her the same way she always did. bright, curious. as though those large eyes could read everything she refused to say aloud.

"i thought maybe both of us needed it."

she wasnt entirely sure whether that was the truth or simply the answer she wanted to believe. there wasnt much point in trying to please anyone. least of all annick.

"that was stupid."

madeleine didnt argue. by her own standards she had always been rather stupid.

♡

once again, madeleine was reminded of just how foolish she could be when she tied new ribbons into her hair without checking whether it was supposed to rain. of course it did. and the rain brought wind with it. now she had no choice but to carry that wretched umbrella around with her all day. which felt almost like a betrayal. she loved the rain. she had hardly ever hidden from it before.

during lessons, she kept checking the little pocket mirror she carried with her, making sure her hairstyle was still intact and the bows hadnt shifted. she probably looked obsessed, but after spending so long in front of the mirror that morning — and, for one of those rare occasions, actually liking what she saw — she couldnt simply leave it to chance.

so when she hurriedly pulled out the mirror on the way to the football field, where a match between the teachers and the students was about to begin, she was genuinely surprised to notice little white corners sticking out from behind it.

of course, she already knew what it was. by the third time, it wasn't exactly difficult to guess. even if the paper was different.

what she couldnt understand was how this mysterious 'he' had managed to slip another note into her mirror when shed been taking it out constantly all day.

after making sure the arrangement of her hair, held together by two red satin bows, was still perfect, madeleine unfolded the small piece of paper.

'your hair looks especially lovely today. although, to be fair, it always looks lovely. but today especially. the bows are adorable. just like the girl wearing them'.

oh.

for the first time, the notes didn't feel like someone was simply making fun of her. this time it actually felt... nice?

it was nice that someone had noticed the effort she'd put into it.

and theyd called her cute.

madeleine felt strangely embarrassed. as though she wasnt supposed to be reading something so personal. or, if she was reading it, then surely it hadnt been meant for her.

still, she folded the note — far more carefully this time, smoothing each crease with her short nails — and continued toward the match, which, judging by the shouting, was about to begin.

everyone who needed to be on the field was already there. the rest had gathered around the edges, some sat on benches, others, who hadnt found a seat, remained standing, farther back, where the excitement barely reached anymore, stood a handful of people who seemed almost entirely uninterested.

among them was descamps. he had already traded the medical bandage for a black cloth eye patch. he watched the ball soar across the field alone. apparently, his friends had been forced to join the game. he smoked as he watched, making madeleine wonder how the heavy raindrops still hadnt managed to extinguish the glowing tip of his cigarette. he looked just as gloomy as he had every day since the accident. though no one could really blame him.

madeleine stopped beside him. not because she was looking for company, but simply because she didnt want to disturb the people actually interested in the match.

for a while he didnt even seem to notice shed appeared beside him. when he finally glanced her way, it wasnt with much enthusiasm.

"want something, cherin?"

hearing her surname spoken aloud caught her off guard. usually, only teachers called her that. or her parents, during arguments. and even then, there was always the polite addition of mademoiselle. coming from him, it sounded sharp. not insulting, just unfamiliar.

"no."

it was the truth. she didnt want anything from him. if anything, she probably ought to move somewhere else. annick was surely around here somewhere.

madeleine looked back at descamps, wanting to make sure he truly preferred being left alone. only then did she notice something shed somehow missed. he wasnt carrying an umbrella. his clothes and hair were soaked through, leaving him looking almost colorless. every now and then he frowned when a stray raindrop landed against his eyelashes.

at that moment descamps looked remarkably like a wet mouse.

the comparison made madeleine feel unexpectedly cruel.

"do you want to stand under the umbrella?" she raised her voice enough to carry over the cheering crowd, the rain striking the fabric above her, and the distance between them.

"im beyond saving."

for the first time since the beginning of september, she caught the faintest hint of a smile in his eyes. she couldnt understand why. could one small act of kindness really make someone as gloomy as him seem even a little brighter?

"but still?"

he hesitated, as though weighing something important in his mind. then, without another word, he accepted the umbrella from her hands and stepped closer so it covered them both. only then, with a little more of the sky visible beyond the edge of the umbrella, did madeleine realize just how tall descamps really was. he looked old enough to blend in with the third-year students if he tried. to someone who rarely met anyone more than a few inches taller than herself, he seemed almost impossibly tall.

he even had to press the top of his head lightly against the umbrella so the rain wouldnt reach her.

"thank you."

he said it at the perfect moment when almost everyone else had fallen silent.

'youre welcome' madeleine said only in her thoughts. somehow it felt like one of those things that didnt need to be said aloud.

♡

she wished pronunciation wasnt also a requirement for the project she and annick had been working on together, meeting at madeleines house almost every day. they had spent around two weeks preparing so they would be ready to present it on the assigned day.

and today was that day.

was she nervous? nonsense. was she only shaking because she would have to deliver her part of the presentation in front of the entire class? yes, that sounded more accurate.

as someone unsociable, someone who avoided forming close connections with people whenever possible, she also avoided situations that could leave her embarrassed in front of them. but when grades and, more broadly, graduating from high school were at stake, she didnt really have a choice.

to at least calm the uneasy feeling somewhere in the pit of her stomach, during the break, after stepping out into the courtyard, madeleine decided to use a method that had helped her organize her thoughts many times before. she pulled a thin sketchbook from her schoolbag, buried between notebooks and textbooks. opening a blank page after the last completed one, she took out a pencil slightly softer than medium grade and began searching for something she could lose herself in.

one of the most common problems with drawing was timing. sometimes she had absolutely no desire to touch her tools, yet she would notice something incredibly beautiful and have no choice but to leave it in her memory for another day. other times, everything happened the other way around, and she would force herself to draw, only to end up with a deeply disappointing result.

today, however, all the pieces fell into place when madeleine noticed joseph descamps stretched out on one of the wooden benches, his absurdly long legs taking up most of the space. he was smoking again, just like so many other times she had seen him outside the walls of voltaire high, seemingly paying no attention whatsoever to the conversation the two people beside him were having, remaining perfectly faithful to his usual faded image.

it was embarrassing to admit, but when she first spotted him, something in her chest skipped a beat. however — she firmly believed this — not in some overly romantic sense, but rather the way one might react to catching sight of a crimson sunset through a window.

descamps seemed enchanting to her. like a force of nature.

madeleine picked up her pencil. she sketched the general outline and marked the proportions of his body. descamps made an excellent model because he barely moved, only occasionally swinging one leg. she continued with his head and face, praying he wouldnt suddenly get up and leave at this stage. he had an interesting nose with a slight bump, thin lips, broad fluffy eyebrows that were sometimes hidden beneath his curly hair, and whenever he looked into the distance, he would squint and frown with concentration. after that came his neck, mostly hidden beneath fabric. he was wearing a sweater with a high collar, its folds concealing a subtle diamond pattern, along with his familiar jacket with its perfectly colored collar and cuffs. his trousers hugged his legs, while dark socks peeked out above his loafers.

the final touches were added, and she wrote the date in the lower right corner as usual. madeleine pulled the page a little farther away to examine it. yes, that was definitely descamps. and now he was in her sketchbook. all she could do was hope she wouldnt regret it later.

the students gradually returning to the school served as a perfect reminder that class was about to begin. it was time to pack up.

when the cover was closed and returned to its original position, something white suddenly flew in from somewhere behind her. had that mysterious 'he' reached this place too?

all right, fine. she had to assume that 'he' had at least remained decent. or perhaps he simply wouldnt have had time to look through anything. besides, there had never been anything secret in there. until today. that page would be better hidden from curious eyes. preferably from any eyes at all.

madeleine picked up the folded sheet of paper lying on the bench where she had been sitting. he handwriting again. that rushed handwriting...

'you look so graceful when you draw. if i could draw, i would draw you every single time you drew. and then you would surely feel everything i feel when i look at you. only through strokes and lines. you would understand everything.'

confessions like that were uncomfortable. not only because of the overly lofty words from a stranger, though that was part of it, but simply because it was strange to realize that someone could experience a range of emotions broad enough to produce so many literary devices. and this 'he' kept trying to speak the language of something important. realizing that only made the message even more embarrassing. yet now, somehow, it was pleasant too.

for some reason, after reading this note, she no longer felt as though someone was making fun of her.

and then, after the successful presentation of the project she and annick had worked on together, descamps — whom, as madeleine suddenly remembered, she had drawn earlier — was the first to applaud them, prompting everyone else to join in. his face was far more cheerful than it had been in her sketchbook.

♡

compared to that day, the drawing of descamps looked unbelievably gloomy every time madeleine, just like now, flipped through the sketchbook until she reached the first blank page.

today was christmas eve. everyone in the house was bustling around in their usual way, making several attempts to finally sit down at the table and begin celebrating, only to remember something they had forgotten every single time. so they kept running back and forth to the kitchen, the bedroom, the bathroom — anywhere but the dining table. for almost an hour now, madeleine had been sitting alone across from the christmas tree, having long since received several affectionate 'just relax, dear's in response to her offers to help. their choice.

only now did it occur to her to capture the decorated branches with her pencils. this year their artificial tree was genuinely worth drawing. it had shimmering silver-colored needles, brought home by her father from some unknown place. once, she had seen one just like it in a magazine advertising all sorts of products for housewives. its branches proudly displayed bright ornaments while colorful fairy lights sparkled between them. dressed like that, it looked utterly magical, exactly as a christmas tree should.

just as madeleine had barely put pencil to paper, someone passed by the window. a second later, the doorbell rang.

calling out to her parents that she could answer it herself, she walked to the front door, wondering which of her fathers friends had decided to stop by with holiday wishes this year. when she unlocked it, there was no one outside.

but on the very last step, right at her feet, sat a box wrapped in colorful paper with a tiny ribbon tied around it. on the front was a short, simple message: 'for madeleine cherin. into her hands only'.

madeleine picked up the box, closed the door behind her, and sat down on the small ottoman by the entrance.

maybe some elderly relative she had never heard of had suddenly decided to reconnect with her. perhaps there was something like a glass ornament for the already decorated tree inside.

deciding not to wait until the celebration itself, and fully aware her mother would probably scold her for opening presents too early, madeleine still couldnt overcome her curiosity or the desire to quickly hand the unwanted gift over to her parents if it turned out to be something pointless. she tore away the wrapping paper. inside, resting on top of the gift, was a folded sheet of paper. on one side, there were only three words: 'sorry for bothering you'. to read it properly, she had to remove the note, revealing what was lying beneath it before she had intended.

through the transparent window of another box, she immediately recognized oil paints. an entire set of artist-grade oil paints. the kind that cost enough to make even her comfortably well-off family think twice before buying them. next to it lay an extra large tube of titanium white.

madeleine would have been certain there had been some mistake if not for her name on the package and the obvious knowledge of what she cared about most. someone had paid attention to her. not casually, but thoughtfully. they had looked a little deeper. and that felt... incredibly touching.

the note.

it finally clicked — the mysterious admirer who loved watching her draw. simply 'he'. by now she was completely certain who this incredible gift had come from. still, she had to read the letter.

madeleine was beginning to recognize that handwriting, with its crooked strokes and characteristically elongated letters.

'i asked an artist i know what you needed most. he only said 'white paint'. i believed him. everything else i chose myself. i hope you like it. i hope one day youll paint your own portrait with them. i hope one day youll put it up for sale. and ill buy it, no matter what price you ask. so i can be with wonderful you even on lonely days like these.

merry christmas, dear madeleine'.

if someone had been standing in front of her, she would have held back her emotions.

but she was alone in the hallway and she cried quietly, ignoring her parents calling her to the table.

madeleine didnt understand what she felt toward the mysterious stranger, not anymore.

if the note shed found inside her sketchbook could still have been dismissed as something ambiguous — though she certainly hadnt seen it that way. but this one... he had taken time for her, asked advice from someone who shared her passion, spent money on her, paid attention to her. and all because... had he really fallen in love with her? not as a joke, not as a game, but enough to want to 'be with wonderful her'?

she couldnt make sense of it. before she even had the chance to try, her mother came into the hallway to get her herself. madeleine quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks and the corners of her eyes, leaving those thoughts for the moment she would be alone again.

♡

madeleine thought about it for days and nights. she could no longer blame her lack of sleep on drawing, because during those days she hadnt touched her pencils or paints at all. she thought, reflected, analyzed...

thought.

this person was still a complete stranger to her. if they really were classmates, then they had almost certainly spoken at least once before. but even so, it felt fair to say she didnt know him at all. and the love that seemed so pure and sincere made her feel grateful more than anything else. she was grateful that 'he' had noticed her — someone she considered, without exaggeration, entirely ordinary. but that wasnt enough to love him back, even if that was what 'he' might have wanted. after spending so much time thinking about it — the holidays left her with plenty of free hours — she finally found a name for what she felt toward 'him'. sympathy.

yes. as selfish as it might have been to merely feel affection for someone who had done nothing but write beautiful things about her and his feelings for her.

but madeleine couldnt help imagining that somewhere out there, on one of the streets of their enormous city, lived a gentle boy. lovely, kind. she didnt think she could ever reject someone like that, even if he confessed to her face.

she couldnt bring herself to break someone so delicate.

♡

after several more sleepless nights like that, her mother, who had noticed how exhausted her daughter looked, decided to at least try making her feel better. under the excuse of delivering a late christmas gift to an acquaintance who owned a clothing store, she convinced madeleine to go outside with her. walks always had a therapeutic effect on her. it was obvious: her legs wandered wherever they pleased, while her mind slowly cleared, distracted only by beautiful streets and elegant architecture.

she needed this, her mother had been right.

when she slipped into her favorite brown coat, bought only a few months earlier, and reached to button it up, her fingers brushed against something made of paper inside the pocket. she assumed it was a forgotten banknote. instead, she pulled out another message from the stranger who, somehow, had begun to interest her.

it was much smaller this time, almost disappointingly so.

'i may not see you every day, but ill like you every day'.

the smile appeared on madeleines face before she even realized it. now there was a quiet warmth in 'his' letters. the kind that wrapped around her like a soft feather blanket. 'he' had even thought ahead, leaving her a note for the holidays, when they wouldnt see each other.

madeleine felt pleasantly flustered. putting her feelings into words was becoming harder and harder.

before leaving the house, she opened her drawer, took out the previous five notes, and folded them all inside the largest one, the christmas letter. then she tucked the folded pages between the sheets of her sketchbook resting inside her bag. for some reason, she wanted to carry them with her all the time.

she had visited 'street elegance' with her mother several times before. it wasnt a particularly large boutique. it belonged to a beautiful older woman who loved chatting with her mother for an hour at a time and calling her 'my dear', despite the fact that they werent especially close. her taste was as refined as the name of her shop, though she insisted everyone simply call her agnis. like anyone else, she had her flaws.

even now, as madeleine stepped inside to the cheerful ring of the bell above the door, agnis hurried out from somewhere behind the register, immediately calling out 'my dear madeleine!' before wrapping her in a hug. she also mentioned the personal christmas gift shed passed along through madeleines mother. apparently, it had been aroma candles. madeleine would never find out for sure.

thinking she definitely didnt plan to spend the next hour listening to the shop owners latest worries, she was already hoping to leave as quickly as possible. but agnis turned toward the sound of the door opening behind her. their goodbye was interrupted.

on the other side of the counter stood descamps. just as gloomy as madeleine had always remembered him. it felt like she hadnt seen him in forever, even though only a week had passed. then again, why would they have seen each other?

"darling, are you leaving already?" agnis asked, lifting her eyebrows with exaggerated disappointment.

"yeah. theres nothing else for me to do here." his hands remained buried inside his pockets. he looked only at agnis, as though madeleine simply wasnt there.

"but what about spending some time with me?" the woman looked genuinely upset.

"id rather read at home." he didnt seem particularly bothered by her disappointment.

madeleine suddenly felt as though she had intruded into something deeply personal, something she was never supposed to witness.

and that way of addressing him... 'darling'.

their eyes really did look alike. and all those stories that she had always ignored, agnis had casually told about her beloved son, who also studied at voltaire high alongside madeleine suddenly became very real. that son was standing right here.

"oh!" remembering madeleine, agnis gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her closer to the counter. "this is wonderful madeleine."

no one else in the room seemed to share the womans enthusiasm.

"remember when i told you about my friends absolutely lovely daughter who also studies at voltaire?"

she had been pestering descamps about her. realizing that felt humiliating. madeleine certainly wouldnt have wished that on herself.

"were in the same class," he said simply as he stepped closer. both madeleine and agnis had to tilt their heads upward to keep looking at him.

what kind of genes had his father passed down, if the only thing hed inherited from his mother was those tired yet piercing eyes?

"really? how wonderful!" the shop owner — or perhaps it was more appropriate to call her madame descamps now — walked over to her son and gently stroked his cheek. he only looked away with quiet annoyance but didn't say a word. "then, as her classmate, you wouldnt mind walking madeleine home, would you?"

she was ready to refuse immediately. she didnt want either of them to be forced into awkward company. and she definitely didnt want to spend another fifteen minutes looking at his tired, unhappy face. besides, she wasnt even planning to go home yet.

but descamps had already opened the front door and was holding it for her, looking directly at madeleine, the only thing she could do to make things easier for him was get this over with as quickly as possible and apologize afterward. the last thing she needed was hostile looks from him once classes started again.

"see you tonight, mom." that was the last thing he said before closing the shop door behind them.

after asking for her address, he started walking down the street. descamps stride was long but relaxed, as though he wasnt in any hurry at all. the people walking beside him, however, had to hurry if they wanted to keep up.

madeleine tried. she genuinely did. but from the outside, she probably looked like a little dog struggling to match its owners pace.

after thinking it over, she deliberately slowed down instead and said the first thing that came to mind, hoping hed hear her and stop walking so fast.

"merry christmas." stupid? yes. embarrassing? probably. effective at slowing him down? not at all.

"yeah. merry christmas to you too." his answer was just as brief as her attempt.

what had she expected?

they spent most of the walk in silence. to his credit, descamps noticeably slowed his pace, though maybe he had simply grown tired of walking so fast himself. when they reached a fork in the road, he stopped. she stopped too.

"you can make it from here?"

descamps looked at her with the same detached expression hed worn while speaking to his mother in the shop. what else had she expected from him? boundless enthusiasm? he seemed to have more than enough reasons to be gloomy even from the perspective of someone who knew absolutely nothing about his life. and now an unexpected walk home with an apathetic classmate had been added to that list. with her. how embarrassing...

"yeah, of course. im sorry you had to walk me."

"you didnt do anything wrong."

he turned around and headed down the opposite street, his hands still tucked into his pockets.

that was when madeleine remembered the drawing of him tucked inside the sketchbook in her bag. despite how awkward she had always felt about keeping it, she suddenly wanted to give it to him. as thanks for the silent company. as an apology for making him accompany her. people usually liked being drawn. and maybe, just maybe, it would earn a slightly brighter expression from someone like him.

madeleine took the sketchbook from her bag and carefully tore out the page, quietly regretting ruining its original order. she looked down the street where descamps had gone. he would disappear around the corner any second now.

he turned at the sound of his name and patiently waited for her to catch up. madeleine stopped in front of him, slightly out of breath, her bangs lifted by the wind from running. she held the drawing toward him.

"i drew you. at the beginning of the school year. i think its unfair... and a little creepy... that it stayed with me all this time. and... im sorry again for getting in your way on your walk home."

his lips curved into a warm smile. just like they had on the day she and annick had presented their project. madeleine realized she had been admiring his smile. it suited him so well. his eyes became especially sly, almost fox-like. descamps looked remarkably gentle whenever something managed to make him happy.

"i already told you, none of this is your fault."

he looked over the drawing again. his hand lifted as though he wanted to trace the pencil strokes with his fingertips. then, remembering he would probably smudge the graphite, he stopped only a couple of centimeters from the page.

"thank you, madeleine." it was the first time she had ever heard him say her name. it sounded unexpectedly soft, smooth and graceful. "maybe one day ill give you something just as meaningful."

before leaving, descamps smiled at her one last time. he lingered for only a moment, as though he had almost decided to do something else. but after thinking it over, he simply walked away.

madeleine turned and headed in the opposite direction.

on her way home, she kept thinking that one day she wanted to see him smile with his teeth showing. she was certain it would suit him.

♡

during the remaining days after meeting descamps, spent as always within the walls of her home, madeleine drew unfamiliar male silhouettes, painted the portrait of someone incredibly handsome with the oil paints he had given her, though the broad brushstrokes made the face impossible to recognize, answered her parents questions about where the gift had come from, and reread the familiar notes over and over again.

after the message she had found in the pocket of her coat, there were no more. though she still hoped that one day, after opening the inner compartment of her schoolbag, she would find another note on the same lined paper saying that 'he' couldnt wait to see her again. but there wasnt one — she had already checked.

madeleine caught herself deliberately looking for folded scraps of paper. she imagined what they might say, then smiled at those imaginary words herself. it was beginning to feel like a harmless little obsession.

but the holidays came to an end, and no new messages ever appeared. it made her deeply sad. not only because they had stopped coming, but because she realized she had somehow become dependent on them. 'he' hadnt written to her in what felt like forever and now she simply didnt feel quite right.

because of that, returning to classes at voltaire high after such a long break actually made her happy. today she would definitely see the mysterious 'him', even if, in reality, he still wore the face of every boy in her class at once.

except she never got the chance to look at all of them. every one of the boys had been summoned to monsieur bellangers office after someone had brought a magazine into english class. the problem wasnt the magazine itself — it was the nude photographs of women inside it. madeleine had managed to notice that much when it flew from annicks hands toward applebaum. why the boys wanted something like that, she could more or less imagine. what she couldn't understand was why it had caught annicks attention. asking about it without half the school overhearing would have been nearly impossible.

all the girls could do was wait for the outcome of the 'execution' being carried out by the disciplinarian. the verdict was postponed until the following day. as a result, the next couple of english lessons were held with a remarkably small class. the discussion revolved around the biggest topic of the past few months — the death of president john kennedy. madeleine, who had always loved english, took an active part in the conversation. it genuinely seemed to surprise madame couret.

by the middle of the first lesson, the boys finally returned. for a while they kept discussing everything that had happened in monsieur bellangers office. judging by the amused tone of their comments, nothing had really come of it. apparently, there would be no punishment. all the better.

their loud laughter and obvious mockery of the entire situation came to an abrupt end when madame couret entered the classroom and announced an unexpected placement test. according to her, it would help determine how she should prepare future lessons and which topics deserved more attention. no one looked particularly thrilled. their brains had already been thoroughly exhausted by the disciplinarian. none of them wanted another challenge. but the teacher remained unmoved.

during the test, madeleine could clearly feel someone watching her. halfway through the lesson, though, she decided she was simply being naive. and far too obsessed with 'his' attention. she forced herself to dismiss the feeling and focused entirely on choosing the correct answers.

the results came surprisingly quickly. madame couret managed to finish grading everything during the remaining half hour of the second lesson while the class, with frequent distractions, answered questions about the reading passage in their textbooks.

madeleine received the highest score in the class — eighteen. this time she and annick had tied. annick smiled as she turned her paper around, showing the red number written across the top. madeleine could finally be proud of herself.

after the bell rang, she walked toward the courtyard alone. it was the long break now, and she could finally...

someone unexpectedly tapped her shoulder. she turned around. no one. or rather, there were people everywhere. the corridor was packed with students, but not a single one was looking at her as though trying to get her attention.

how strange.

when she turned back to continue walking, she suddenly realized something had been slipped into her hand. her heart immediately began beating faster. a ridiculous smile spread across her face the moment she looked down at the folded piece of paper. the thing she had wanted most these past few days.

the mysterious 'he' had moved on to physical contact. fortunately, he remained enough of a gentleman to keep it as innocent as this.

annick stopped in front of her.

she had stayed behind after class talking with michele. now she stared at madeleine with her usual wide-open eyes before glancing toward the smile she couldnt seem to hide.

"are you going to the courtyard?"

thankfully, that was all she asked.

"yeah."

because there was something entirely different in her eyes. then annick noticed the note in madeleines hand. her expression shifted into surprise.

please, dont.

"is it from the same person as the first day?"

madeleine didnt want to answer.

"yeah."

"do you know who it is?"

she didnt know what to say.

"no."

every time annicks practicality found its way into her life, madeleine felt strangely foolish.

"will you be careful with him?"

whenever she looked at those notes, rationality was the last thing she wanted.

"i dont even know who he is."

annick somehow looked beautifully grown-up as she explained something so painfully simple.

"whoever he is. please, be careful."

she left madeleine standing there, still holding the note and smiling stupidly. now she really did feel stupid. annick had been right. she had said exactly what needed to be said, and all madeleine had wanted was for her to leave. it was rude. unkind. thankfully, those thoughts never escaped her head.

madeleine unfolded the little piece of paper at last.

when she thought about it, she had missed 'his' letters terribly. whoever he was.

"you did wonderfully in class today. such an english girl. id love to visit england again someday. this time with you. maybe one day..."

the words immediately painted pictures in her mind. photographs of england she had seen in magazines. bright cities, a completely different country. a tall boy and a petite girl walking together through rainy london. they wandered past famous landmarks and quiet streets no one else seemed to know. the whole time they smiled, soaking in the atmosphere, and, of course, they held each others hands tightly.

♡

the next few months passed incredibly quickly, filled with countless more notes, each carrying a different message.

'your voice warms my heart. i wish i could hear it more often', 'maybe one day ill be allowed to tuck your hair behind your ear and tell you how beautiful you are', 'yesterdays sunset was unbelievable. i wish i could have watched it with you. actually, i want to spend every sunset of my life with you', 'you havent left my mind since the day we met. it almost feels like an illness. if it is, i never want to be cured' — there were endless messages like these. every one of them slowly brought her closer to the point where something inside her changed completely.

it wasnt something she had expected. it was frightening, terrifying and strangely inviting... but to call 'it' by its proper name would mean admitting what she felt.

and madeleine absolutely could not allow herself to fall in love with someone whose existence she still hadnt truly confirmed.

so she did everything she could to distract herself. fortunately, there was something else demanding her attention. apparently, the mysterious 'he' had found something to keep himself busy too, because he hadnt written anything for several days. summer had begun with preparations for the final exams scheduled for the end of the month at voltaire high. the exact dates hadn't been announced yet, but everyone already knew they were coming.

ordinary lessons, still following their usual schedule, became another welcome distraction. today, during biology, the thing every student dreaded was finally announced. tomorrow would be dissection day. they were expected to cut open innocent frogs. no, shed rather fail. getting a failing grade at the end of the year would be awful, of course. but living the rest of her life remembering she had killed an animal sounded much worse.

some things were better learned from textbooks.

annick, however, as always, had found the smartest solution. since she didnt want to steal the frogs herself, she manipulated the boys into doing it by offering one hour of her company in return. officially, the hour was supposed to be spent studying together. something no one could really object to. in reality... everyone probably imagined something completely different.

but she simply couldnt allow those frogs to become victims. leaving their rescue to chance wasnt an option. as for annick, shed much rather spend that hour with pichon, who was hopelessly in love with her or even by herself.

when madeleine stepped into the suspiciously empty biology classroom, which for some reason had been left unlocked, she immediately spotted the frogs still sitting on the table. a slanted ray of sunlight poured through the windows, filling the room with bright afternoon light...

"madeleine!"

a quiet voice behind her made her jump. she had known the classroom door couldnt have been left open for no reason. there was always a reason. today, that reason was named joseph descamps.

he stood pressed close to the wall, obviously hiding from whoever entered the room. from her.

"let me guess. youre after an hour with annick too?" she tried to sound as though seeing him there wasnt surprising at all.

they had barely spoken since the day she gave him the drawing. she couldnt help wondering what had become of it. had he thrown it away? hidden it somewhere deep inside a drawer and forgotten it existed? or had he actually hung it somewhere he could see it?

that last possibility embarrassed her far more than it should have.

over the past few months, she had noticed subtle changes in him. not the kind jean-pierre magnan caused — the opposite. it was almost as if he had slowly begun returning to the person he used to be. lighter, more alive.

and now he had come here to steal frogs for annick. she had never noticed him paying any special attention to her. then again, who said he couldnt hide it?

"youre not the only one who doesnt want to cut frogs open just because someone told you to. im not into animal cruelty. wouldnt recommend it either."

it was a strange thing to hear, especially considering who annick was. still, her earlier suspicion remained. not everyone liked displaying their feelings for everyone to see.

there was nothing left to do except accept the company shed been given. freeing the frogs was what mattered.

together they approached the terrarium. keys jingled softly in descamps hand as he searched for the right one. he reached toward the lid and then stopped halfway. turning to madeleine with a sly grin.

"im curious, you came here to rescue the frogs, but how exactly were you planning to open this without me stealing bellangers keys?"the thought alone seemed to amuse him.

he was teasing her, gently, and somehow it suited him so naturally that she didnt want him to stop.

"i dont think we have much time for heartfelt conversations." descamps turned back to the lock. she felt she probably should answer anyway. "maybe i wouldve cut through the mesh. i always carry a pocketknife."

of course, she meant the little knife she used to sharpen her pencils. she wasnt about to admit it was so dull it probably needed replacing.

"dangerous." descamps' smile only widened.

apparently he really was making fun of her. yet somehow, the way he did it felt oddly comforting.

the wire lid was finally lifted aside. dozens of tiny black eyes immediately stared back at them. now that the frogs were right in front of her, madeleine found much of her courage disappearing.

so brave.

"someone once told me that if you touch a frog, youll get warts."

descamps laughed again.

at least her ability to say ridiculous things didn't seem to annoy him.

he glanced sideways at her, watching her nervously avoid the frogs eyes.

"do you think anyone would still love me if i had warts on my hands?" the question sounded playful, but the thoughts behind it didnt.

descamps carefully began placing the frogs into the waiting bag one by one. when he noticed she hadnt laughed, he only pressed his lips together for a moment.

"either way... id survive. ive survived worse." he was talking about his eye, or rather, the lack of it, the bandage hiding what was surely the scar left behind after surgery.

at fifteen, descamps had lost an eye in a terrible accident. he could have lived another forty or fifty years with normal sight. he could have been spared such an enormous trauma at such a young age. he could have...

madeleine suddenly remembered one of the notes from the mysterious 'him'. ever since finding it, she had filled her sketchbook with little drawings inspired by it. imagining what 'they' might have looked like together. she had even started collecting photographs of london, cutting them from magazines and pinning them above her desk. it had probably become her favorite letter of them all.

descamps suddenly felt incredibly warm to her. she caught herself thinking that someone like him — someone like the version of him standing beside her today — was exactly the kind of person she could imagine traveling to england with.

poor boy. 'our little angel...'

after gathering every frog, descamps zipped the bag shut and headed toward the door, calling for madeleine, who had been staring silently at the floor with an expression far too complicated to read. they left the classroom without speaking. he handed her the bag while reaching into his pocket for the keys.

"someone would." her quiet voice barely carried through the equally quiet hallway.

he looked at her, confused, while turning the key twice and locking the classroom door.

"even with warts on your hands. that doesnt really matter."

it almost seemed like descamps hadn't heard her. maybe that was for the best.

they reached the agreed meeting spot where the rest of their classmates were already waiting. the fact that they had arrived together caught more than a few people by surprise. the bag was opened, the frogs were safe, the deal was complete and everyone could relax. while the boys amused themselves by tormenting felbec, annick walked over to her.

"so... you and descamps. who exactly do i owe that hour to?"

both she and annick looked toward the tall boy with the eye patch, standing a little apart from everyone else, smoking as usual while laughing at something his friends had said. now, at last, she had even seen him smile with his teeth showing.

madeleine nodded toward him. he needed that hour much more than she did.

annick walked over and asked him something. descamps simply shook his head. after one last glance that seemed directed straight at madeleine, he picked up his schoolbag from the ground and walked away in a direction known only to him.

apparently, he had never planned on studying with annick.

♡

after everything that had happened with descamps, during yet another day off devoted entirely to exam preparation, madeleine found herself thinking that she probably could have used an extra hour of studying with annick too. who knew, maybe during that time she would finally understand the things that simply refused to make sense to her. exam week had already begun, so she nervously reviewed everything over and over again, trying not to let herself get distracted.

of course, that didnt work. especially with everything that had been happening lately.

the disappearance of michele and alain laubrac, their absence from every exam, and everything surrounding it occupied far too much space in her mind. not because she had been particularly close to either of them. if she was honest, she couldnt even remember speaking to either of them for longer than a minute. but even the rumors about their disappearance, combined with the undeniable fact that neither of them had returned to school, kept making her imagine all sorts of possibilities.

and then there was descamps. from the very first day the two of them disappeared, something about him had changed. not physically, though she certainly couldn't deny he was handsome. it was something else entirely. he had become unexpectedly kind, playful and almost radiant, probably the happiest he had seemed since the very first day of school. madeleine couldnt decide whether she liked it or whether it only made her more suspicious. no, she certainly wasnt about to accuse him of murdering michele because her brother had cost him an eye, with laubrac simply ending up in the wrong place while trying to protect her. that would have been absurd. still wondering whether he had somehow been involved didnt seem entirely impossible.

madeleine had been bent over her textbooks for almost an hour and a half when the doorbell rang. no one else was home, so she had no choice but to answer it herself.

the moment she opened the door, she felt an overwhelming sense of deja vu. it reminded her of christmas night. once again there wasnt even a glimpse of whoever had rung the bell. only another gift from the person she believed to be the mysterious 'he'. this time, instead of a brightly wrapped box, there was a bouquet resting carefully on a folded newspaper just outside the door.

it was made up of white lilies, pale coral roses, delicate ears of grain, and flowers she didnt know the names of. as soon as she picked it up, she caught the scent of summer, nature and cool air. or maybe it belonged to the person who had brought them?

tied to the satin ribbon holding the bouquet together was another note. this one wasnt written on the familiar scraps of lined paper — instead, it had been carefully written on a neatly cut cardboard tag. bringing it closer, she read the message.

'ive seen brides holding bouquets like this in my mothers magazines. not trying to imply anything, but...'

she could feel warmth flooding into her cheeks. 'he' saw her as his bride? 'he' wanted them to get married? 'he' really imagined a future where they were together?

the thought alone embarrassed her. everything inside her trembled, there was a strange feeling in her stomach, the kind her mother's romance novels always called 'butterflies'. could she imagine someone like the mysterious 'him' as her husband? the answer came almost instantly.

yes.

closing her eyes, madeleine saw the wedding of her dreams with perfect clarity. she didnt even have to invent it, it was already there. flowers everywhere, warm fairy lights, lanterns glowing softly, layers upon layers of lace, only the people closest to them, a wedding ceremony beneath the sweeping branches of an enormous green willow tree. the bride wearing a long white flowing dress, the groom dressed in a classic black tuxedo. she couldnt see his face.

madeleine had fallen in love with 'him'. for the first time in her life and with someone she had never once seen.

after that, only one thought remained — she had to find out who he was. the school year was almost over and she couldnt leave this mystery until the next one. even if she ended up disappointed, even if 'he' wasnt nearly as wonderful in real life as she imagined him to be. she still had to know.

♡

during one of the final exams — english that day — the only thing madeleine could think about was the folded note hidden inside her pencil case.

this time, however, the handwriting wasnt the familiar sweeping script with its long, stretched letters. it was tiny, round, carefully neat.

because this note had been written by madeleine herself and it was meant for one very specific person. even if she had no idea who that person actually was.

'how do i find out who you are?'

it was an incredibly naive message, almost childish. after spending hours trying to come up with a sentence that would carry meaning for only one person while sounding completely harmless to everyone else, this was what she had settled on. she had made up her mind.

exam season was nearly over, so students had already begun finishing early, handing in their papers and leaving whenever they were done. thankfully, that was allowed. after completing every question, madeleine handed in her exam, picked up her schoolbag and, trying to look as natural as possible, said goodbye to madame couret. at the same time, she quietly left the little folded square of paper on her desk. all she could do now was hope annick, who always stayed until the very end, wouldnt decide she was helping by throwing the note away to save her from getting into trouble.

madeleine really hoped she wouldnt get scolded for it. after all, no one knew who had written it. and just as she had intended, there was nothing suspicious about its contents. it was completely harmless. and after waiting for almost an entire year, madeleine had become desperate enough to try methods she never would have considered before.

now all that remained was to hope that 'he' had been watching her when she left the classroom. she wanted that more than anything. because if he had, then surely he would let her know very soon.

♡

but for now there was nothing left to do except wait. painfully, and far too long, because all madeleine did during her free days between exams was replay every possible version of their first face-to-face meeting. what he would be like, whether she would like him, whether he would like her. because what 'he' had imagined about her and who she actually was were almost certainly very different things. she was afraid of disappointment. afraid she wouldnt be able to go on living without that kind of fairy tale.

so she was genuinely glad to be distracted for a while when annick pulled her out of the house. it turned out that everyone who even vaguely knew henri was gathering at pichons place. not exactly by his will, but if even annick went, then resisting the situation was probably pointless.

henris house was large, spacious, and bright. but all the students from voltaire high, and maybe even a few outsiders, filled it so much that there was barely any free space left. it felt like even third-year students were there. everyone was drinking, talking, dancing, talking again — over and over.

madeleine was never particularly good at blending into crowds like this, even though she felt completely fine observing from the outside. not lonely, exactly. more like she was both with everyone and slightly apart from it all at once, taking in the entire chaos of sound at the same time. it sounded strange, even to her.

she noticed a small half-empty minibar that probably belonged to pichons parents. no one would mind if she poured herself something, right?

she never really liked the taste or smell of alcohol. it all felt the same. but the warmth in her throat after swallowing was brief and comforting. that was what she was drinking for now — some amber-red liquid she couldnt identify.

she stood slightly apart, and yet still inside everything happening. her back rested against a carved wooden sideboard. on top of it were flowers in a vase, small trinket boxes, and a mirror hanging above. probably where pichons mother and sisters got ready in the mornings.

loud voices pulled her attention. someone was celebrating dupins unexpected luck. and indeed, he was dancing with annick, who had previously refused even pichon.

"they left us behind." a familiar, mock-sad voice sounded right next to her ear.

on her right, descamps had been standing there for who knew how long, towering over almost everyone except maybe the older students, staring just as absorbed at the unexpected dancing pair.

"i think someone else is the one who got left behind." she said, pointing toward pichon, who looked lost while watching them dance.

annick was incredibly beautiful in her blue dress as she moved with the music. and henris heart was probably already in pieces.

"what do they even see in each other?"

"pichon is good, no hidden side. and annick… well, thats obvious."

"not really."

"what?" she turned to him, trying to see if he was joking.

"not really obvious whats special about her."

descamps was probably the only person in voltaire who didnt admire annick just because she existed. maybe even the only one in the world. because annick was undeniably beautiful. even girls would fall silent when she walked by. madeleine herself didnt hide her quiet admiration.

annick was almost unreal.

and descamps simply didnt see it, and trying to convince him felt strange.

"well, shes quite distant, thoughtful, strong, with big kind eyes… and also…" all the words she could use suddenly stopped mattering. "just annick…" as if that was enough.

madeleine noticed that he had been looking only at her the whole time. not blinking. that direct, steady gaze into her big kind eyes…

"whats wrong? she asked, suddenly very aware of how uncomfortable it made her.

only then did descamps snap out of it. he looked away immediately, avoiding her eyes.

"sorry."

madeleine didnt understand what was going on with him. not at all. he could tease her, mock her, but now he looked almost ashamed himself, as if he had been caught doing something improper. but he hadnt. he had just been looking, maybe a little more warmly than he would look at annick, but that shouldnt have meant anything. probably he was just becoming more like himself again, after the strange stillness since early september last year.

that must have been it.

someone bumped into descamps shoulder as they passed. when he turned, he was face to face with jean-pierre magnan — the reason for his earlier state of collapse. the hatred in both their eyes was obvious and deserved. descamps jaw tightened.

madeleines hand covered his, the one gripping the edge of the sideboard, before she even had time to think. she simply didnt want any more harm. for descamps.

magnan glanced at them once more and walked away. they had gotten lucky.

descamps exhaled a few times, then looked at his hand under hers. madeleine quickly pulled away.

"sorry." now it was her turn.

they spent a long time talking about everything and nothing after that. exams they wanted to finish, pichon and simons dancing, where annick had disappeared after her dance with dupin, the music — slow, melodic, filling the room.

then descamps suddenly stood up.

"did something happen?"

"do you want to dance?"

it was obvious what had triggered his sudden movement.

"im really terrible at dancing. i dont understand any of it."

"ill show you." no. "i promise, madeleine." no. "i wont let you embarrass yourself, i promise." please.

madeleine begged him not to look at her the way he did. she hoped he could take that boundless, bright hope from his eyes, and then she would definitely refuse him. please, decamps.

but his expression didnt change at all, meaning madeleine simply couldnt refuse him. even despite the intense shame that immediately appeared red on her face.

or maybe it was the way he took her hand so carefully, the way he placed a hand at her waist through the thin fabric of her dress. he was so close now, exactly as the dance required. moving with her, following music he couldnt even hear.

it felt like he was wrapping her completely in his presence. and that was overwhelming. she kept wanting to hide her face against his dark blue shirt so no one could see her.

but he watched her too closely from above.

"are you okay, madeleine?" he asked, leaning down slightly to catch her eyes, but she lowered her lashes instead.

"descamps, you…" her thoughts went completely blank.

"joseph. at least today, call me joseph."

"joseph, youre unbearable."

"i know."

he smelled faintly of something soft and unintrusive. not sharp, not overwhelming. just comforting in a way that made it hard to step away. he held her so gently that staying like this forever didnt feel like such a bad idea.

it was pleasant, terribly embarrassing and painfully, softly warm.

♡

madeleine was walking home when the sun was already beginning to set. her mind still hadnt fully cleared after the day spent in the arms of dear joseph, who had walked her to their usual street junction after the party and awkwardly said goodbye. thinking about it was uncomfortable, but still warm in the same way the entire evening had been. she genuinely had no idea how she would see him again. the last time, she thought, before the holidays.

there was nothing between them, right? so there was no real need for goodbyes. they would just meet again in september at school and pretend nothing had ever happened.

the idea felt strange. almost irrationally wrong.

madeleine slipped her hand into the pocket of her denim jacket, searching for her house key. instead, her fingers caught a folded piece of paper, creased several times.

she hadnt thought about the mysterious 'he' at all during the party. that was good, that was what she wanted before annick pulled her out of the house. and yet… she felt terrible. as if she had betrayed someone she loved, someone she had attached herself to on her own.

unfolding the note, she found only an address with a short message: 'city view. tomorrow at 11 pm'.

it seemed it was time to meet him.

♡

the latin exam marked the end of their long stretch of stress and nerves. it was hard to believe she had already spent a whole year at voltaire. it felt like everything had only just begun yesterday, and yet now she was standing on the school steps with annick, the harsh midday sun making it unmistakably clear that summer had finally arrived.

after hugging the lovely annick goodbye and managing to actually make her a little embarrassed madeleine headed toward the gates. but her gaze caught a straight back moving farther away.

after a sleepless night thinking about the upcoming meeting with 'him', she decided it would be dishonorable not to say goodbye. both to him and to herself. maybe this was their ending. maybe when they returned next year, they wouldnt even remember each other. so it needed closure.

"descamps!" her voice rang out, followed by quick footsteps trying to catch up with his pace.

but descamps was nice to her, so he stopped as soon as he heard his last called.

"joseph…" she wasnt as sure as she had been rehearsing it in her head. "i wanted to say goodbye."

his bright face, lit by warm july sunlight, showed clear confusion.

"for the summer. two months… i thought we…"

"you thought right." he cut her off gently, saving her from explaining what she couldnt quite put into words, and she was glad for that.

"goodbye, madeleine. maybe fate will bring us together again during these long months."

they stood there for a while, people leaving school walking awkwardly around them. neither of them quite knew how to leave first.

at some point joseph stepped toward her, and madeleine stepped toward him too. because she already understood.

without resistance, she found herself in his arms again — no longer framed as a dance.

he held her close.

she wrapped her arms around his waist so tightly that it actually hurt.

he ran his hand through her hair.

she stayed silent, eyes closed.

in the end she smiled at him, and then they parted, saying goodbye until the end of summer.

♡

the next few hours were spent in a very familiar state of anxious anticipation. nothing could distract her, so by ten in the evening she was already fully ready to leave, making sure she wouldnt be late.

her parents would definitely not approve of their fifteen-year-old daughter sneaking out at eleven at night to meet someone unknown. and they would be absolutely right.

but now, standing at the destination, having slipped out of the house while her parents slept, she didnt really care.

the address led to a small street beyond the main road. it opened onto a view of the sleeping city, broken only by scattered lights. there was a bench at the edge, placed deliberately for the scenery. the clock she checked a few streets back showed half past ten. she had expected to arrive early — but she hadnt.

someone was already sitting there.

there was no need to guess. it was 'him'.

he didnt turn around, didnt speak, just waited patiently for her to make the first move. and madeleine did. slowly, carefully. she sat beside him, still not looking at him.

afraid? maybe.

but it had to be done. quickly and cleanly, like pulling off a bandage.

"hi." he said, smiling as he looked at her.

"hi." she smiled back, as if there had never been any other option.

"disappointed?" he asked boldly, though she could tell he was afraid of the answer.

"no."

"not even a little?"

madeleine didnt know if she had ever doubted him.

"not since the first meeting."

from the very beginning, joseph had been nothing but kind to her. if not wonderful, then simply good. in his appearance, in his gaze, in the way he acted. just like the mysterious 'he'.

"so you…" he started, about to ask about the very first note.

"yes." and he understood without her finishing.

"to be honest, i still cant quite believe it."

"from the first day, from the first glance. you were so mysteriously beautiful that i couldnt stop myself from writing to you. maybe it was frightening, but ive never regretted it."

his words made her want to cry, and she knew exactly why. and she wanted him to know it too.

"i think i fell in love with you too. first with the mysterious 'him', and then with joseph.

"mysterious 'he'? he laughed softly, moving closer.

"thats what i called your alter ego." she said, sliding even closer until their knees touched.

they looked at each other in silence, waiting for someone to move first.

"i want to kiss you."

"i want it too"

and they met halfway.

madeleine had never thought about kissing descamps.

descamps had thought about kissing madeleine far too many times.

he had wanted to kiss her after she gave him the drawing now framed on his desk, after the frog incident when her quiet 'someone would' completely undid him, after walking her home from the party when the wind messed up her hair so beautifully he thought he might lose his mind, and even today, when she sounded like she was saying goodbye forever.

but they kissed now.

and it was right.

♡

and in august that year, madeleine and joseph went to london together, accompanied only by his mother, who spent most of the trip somewhere outside their days.

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