"Too fast?" Simone felt embarrassment, for the first time in a very long time. She had gotten used to Annabelle’s presences and responses. But she hadn’t expected a blank to that question.

"No. Not at all. I was just thinking… I have to tell you something."

Fear clutched at Simone’s heart, for a second, she thought she’d hear something like ‘can’t live with you, I’m too young…’ "I’m messy. I mean, I’m not good at putting things back to their original places. I’ll do my best, I swear, but don’t yell at me if you find a lonely sock underneath the sofa, it wouldn’t be my fault. I mean, it would, but it wouldn’t mean that I don’t respect or love you, it’s just I’m messy," Annabelle paused; she was being a bit hysterical, she knew it, but she had to let her fears out; "And… I’m sorry… But, I CAN’T cook. I just suck at it. I even burnt a frying pan once. Even though it’s still a mystery how I did that, it just reveals how bad I am at it. But, I swear, I’ll buy books and stuff and try harder. And, and, sometimes I’m in a weird mood when I wake up, but it usually disappears when you give me a kiss and are nice to me. It’s not like I’m grumpy or anything, it’s more like I’m being weird, silent, away… Can’t really explain it"

Simone was staring at Annabelle. She could feel she only was unleashing fears and doubts and it made her smile tenderly, totally mesmerized by her cuteness. "Annabelle… I don’t really care. I can cook, and even though I’m not good at cleaning, I’m ok with lonely socks. But if you mean to tell me it’s too so-"

Annabelle reached out for her and hugged her close. "I didn’t mean to scare you. Just… warn you. I mean, I don’t want to lose you just because I’m seventeen and immature."

"You are seventeen. But every time I remember that, I’m amazed. Because you are everything but immature," Simone replied. She realised it was the very first time Annabelle let go of her fears without restraining herself, without closing up in the middle of her sentence. Annabelle just looked lost and scared.