March 28, 1890
You sent me those letters, and I'm not sure how I'm supposed to respond. What do you want from me? What do you think I have to give? You and I are nothing alike. It doesn't matter what I felt. It doesn't matter what we felt. I'm not even sure why you sent them to begin with.
March 28, 1890
Do you love me? Is that what love is supposed to feel like?
March 28, 1890
I haven't thought about you in months, but that's not surprising. You're a quidditch player. You have all the time in the world to think about whatever you want when you're not playing. I haven't been to a game since you made first-string. I've always been afraid of meeting you there.
Tristan Michaud/Roberto Devine
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set by Stef <333