"Dad, I told you to never opened my letters, why you didn't even want to listen?"
"And you never told me that you have such amount of money in your account- also please control your addiction to online shopping. You spend a lot on nonsense stuffs"
"It's my money, please dad.. respect your daughter's privacy"
Delilah ran to the upstairs and locked herself. She's actually don't really mind if her dad checked her letters but she's just tired. She didn't meant to raise her voice like that. Delilah lied on her bed thinking that she should apologize, although she kind of didn't really like the idea of sneaking through other people letters.
She checked the letters, some of it are from the banks and some are from several college that offering her to do Master. She stares the letter blankly, and then huge sighed was heard. "If only I can pursue my studies" she whispered. It's not like she did not want to pursue but she had financial problem, plus she couldn't leave both of her parent. They are not really well and pursuing studies meant she had to stay far away with her parents. That's sound like not a good idea in the moment. Beside, she's not 'that' kind smart girl. Back then, Fyn was the one who helped her a lot in assignments and tests. Now Fyn was not here so things are different now.
Delilah checked her emails. No new message. Nevermind, she's already getting used with these nights. Then she back to her table to do some work, suddenly she saw her old journal. The journal probably aged about 3 years old as some of the pages started turning to yellow colour and there were also scratch from nowhere at the cover page. She began to read it. Delilah couldn't help smiling as some of them are too silly with the stickers and those nonsense quotes, there are also some that she couldn't remember. Then-
Her eyes stucked at this one page.
29 Oct 2012 9:35pm
"Pillow Talk"
Delilah remember this night clearly. It's what she and Fyn used to do on nights when they didn't feel like being around their parents or sitting in some diner. Fyn would drive and Delilah would roll down her window and singing along with the radio. She'd sing along and they'd talk. The talk came easily when Fyn was driving as she didn't have to make eye contact with him. Or maybe because the freeway was empty and the love songs, and the wind.
"Fyn", Delilah asked him on that night. "Didn't you ever wonder what it would be like to be with someone else?
"I won't wonder that because I already know what it would be like to be with someone else."
"How do you know?" she said.
"I just do"
"Then, what it would be like?"
"It would be less," Fyn said.
"Less?"
Fyn looked over her, just for a second. "It would have to be. I already love you so much. I couldn't love anyone more that I do you, and I couldn't love anyone less because it would always feel like less"
"Even if I loved some other girl, that's all I would ever think about, the difference between loving her and loving you. Because you are truly one of a kind"
Delilah squirmed out of the top half of her seat belt and laid her head on his shoulder. "That is such a good answer"
"It's a true answer" said Fyn while kissed her head. "I don't want to sound stupid or desperate, but look-
"I'll never wonder what it would be to be with someone else for the same reason I don't want to kiss anyone else. You're the only girl I've ever touched. And I feel like it was supposed to be that way. My whole body rings whenever you're with me. Like a bell or something. Maybe I could feel something if I'm with other girls, you know, like maybe there would be noise. But not like with you. And what would happen if after I'm with them, and then, I tried to touch you again? I might not be able to hear us anymore. I might not ring true."
"I love you, Fyn," Delilah said.
"I love you," he replied.
"And I love you more."
'Pillow talk' wasn't on the air anymore. Delilah stared at the page that full with lovely words and stickers that they got from random store at that night. Basically anything that remind her on him that night. After a few minutes, Delilah closed the book and began to do her works but her fingers were cold and numb.
