“He’s always like that sometimes,” Kristen says, tucking her hair behind her ear, nervous as all of them are at his stupor. She drinks wine from a glass as they mingle, and Sheva feels that she’s too beautiful, too out-of-place for him again. What’s he to her? He’s plain, old, Andriy Shevchenko, a boy who has never grown up, who has stares in his eyes from fighting too much. AHH!!! no! she's a f*cking stupid bitch!
This is soooo beautiful! Gawd! Really! I have no other words than that!
Now it is April. Sheva marks off the days of his calender, and Kristen watches him, wonders if all he dreams of is leaving Italy, wonders why he won’t say a word.
wow. perfect. I love the feeling of disorientation. the dreams are so telling and the distance already settling in between Ricky and Andriy is heartbreaking. I love it. *runs off to read the rest*
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I just want to cry.
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AHH!!! no! she's a f*cking stupid bitch!
This is soooo beautiful! Gawd! Really! I have no other words than that!
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Loved this. x
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*runs off to read the rest*
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“Sheva, I’m not twenty,” Kaká says.
“You’re twenty.”
“Twenty-four.”
“I thought you were born when I was nine,” says Sheva, blankly.
“No.”
SHEVA *bawls*
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