She came home later than usual that afternoon. The look on her face screamed "I was just a few marks off passing!" He guessed she'd been hiding in the library all afternoon... he was probably right, she had a habit of doing that.
"So what if you didn't pass?!" His voice sounded softer than she expected, she wandered to the bedroom without a word.
He plonked himself at the kitchen table. Frustrated and a little uneasy with her dismissal. Stillness swept the house and after ten minutes he couldn't bare it. A letter. That was the best way to get through to her.
I hope you know I don't care that you didn't pass. You're going to cry about this exam, I know you are - hell, I might too! I'll be yours at two in the morning and two in the afternoon and I'll kiss you until you smile again.
And I'll still bring you cheese on toast every Thursday afternoon. We can watch that shitty film you love, and yes I'll pretend I'm interested despite already knowing the ending.
Let's see if you're still mad after that.
He folded the note, slipped it under the bedroom door and listened attentively for the sound of the floorboards creaking.
Familiar sound heard, he popped two slices of bread in the toaster and raided the fridge for the cheese.
❊
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