15. Marcin

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Translator: Schiotka

Editor: Pasadera, JacquelineMonaie

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"There is something.

Something that sits there... buried deep, very deep.

Covered by layers of sand and silt. Concealed by everything I was able to throw on top.

I pretend it's not there.

That it never happened.

But despite that... I bear its mark. Perhaps it's not too noticeable, but it has somehow shaped me... differently from how I wanted it to."

These words... could be said by both of them.

Him and Winter.

Marcin and him.

Despite two separate lives and two different histories, they both had a secret.

A secret with deep roots.

And its small shoots sprout throughout each of their lives.

Discreetly.

Coming to the surface.

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I don't like to talk about it.

I mean, who would?

Generally, I was always... the runaway type. I had a big mouth. But when things got serious, I never held my own. I never defended... myself, my dignity, my morals.

As long as Niv was there, I felt safe.

I felt untouchable.

But when he left... new "needs" surfaced and I, well... I wasn't able to face what I'd brought down upon myself.

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"Hi Niv!" Marcin said these words before his bum had even touched the chair. He adjusted the laptop so he could better see the virtual reflection of Nivan.

"Hey," the Redhead replied with a smile. Delicate, just as Marcin preferred.

He returned the expression. He stared at the screen for a moment, in silence.

"We won't be able to talk much today..." he said, his gaze falling.

"Why not?"

"I told you a few days ago... I'm going to that party."

"With Winter?" asked Nivan, the smile rapidly disappearing from his face.

Marcin was aware of the Redhead's attitude toward "that singer".

Now he felt it more than ever. Each time Nivan pronounced his name it was with more contempt.

"Yes... with him..." Marcin answered, still not meeting his eyes.

He didn't like the way Nivan was looking at him. Critically, coldly. No, even worse... with distrust.

Biting his lower lip in frustration, Marcin didn't realize that his body language conveyed something completely different to his intention.

"Maybe you could look at me and stop running away with those peepers of yours?" Nivan asked, in a stern and accusatory tone.

An unsettling feeling was growing inside the Redhead. Something that made him feel strange; something over which he had no control.

Marcin looked at him automatically. He realized how stupidly he was behaving... because he didn't want the Redhead to look at him that way. He didn't want him to think that he felt something for Winter. Because he didn't.

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