4 Veronica and Werther

Sasha's call interrupted that  warm, cosy silence that we often share when I space out and he cooks. I can't translate what me and Sasha talk about, it's something that even my own people can't understand, although they sure as hell think they do.
When me and Sasha talk today, Veronica and Werther sit down at a table out on a wooden built terrace on a sunny day, listening to soft rock and look at each other smiling like they know the secrets of this world. Veronica smokes and drinks her coffee while Werther thinks about what she just said. They don't actually speak anymore.  They played their parts and said what they had to say a long time ago, now they're just old friends gazing down on the world and on what they've become. Now they just listen. Nor Veronica, nor Werther exist anymore except when me and Sasha talk. When we say goodbye, Veronica smiles looking straight into Werther's eyes while blowing out the smoke and putting out the cigarette. Her smile is patronising and slightly arrogant. Like me she only smiles with a meaning and half her mouth. Werther smiles back while looking into her eyes. He knows he's being patronised, thought of as a child that the world would force to grow up, but like Sasha, he loves that arrogant, patronising smile too much to wipe it off.
Many people thought many things of me and Sasha. It wasn't his fault he never wanted or earned (so they call it) a social reputation. By default, he ended up with me. The world always had an opinion about me, so the world always had an opinion about him. I guess that was part of the deal he never wanted but somehow made.I'm notorious for getting my way! Unfortunately for one the most beautiful minds the Gods created, he was something I wanted.
I don't owe this explanation to anyone else but him. He cared about such things and as much as I hated it I never could change that. He cared about the 'public opinion', he cared about people knowing that me and him were never lovers, nor sex buddies, nor two teenagers in love. He would have wanted the world to know we never even kissed. He would have wanted the world to know we never even thought about it.
So here it is! The explanation he would want me to give : 'me and Sasha are just very good friends'.
I have so many memories, of so many childish arguments- that I'm pretty  sure we'd still have today- . I grew up being taught not to care about "them", but he cared enough for both of us.
-Why does it fucking matter?! What do they know?!
-It matters to me, Ana! Do it for me!
-Jesus! Why?!Why the hell do you even care?! We both know it's not the truth?!let them talk!
-I'm not like you, ok!? I care! I don't want them to talk.
-So what do you wanna do?! Hide?!...what the hell are we even hiding!? is there anything to hide?!
-Ana...
-...Don't! just fucking don't!
-We can just act differently. in school at least . You know how they are. You know how much they love to gossip.
-That's because they envy us. They always gossip! Are you even listening to yourself 'act differently'!?
-Ana please!
-No! 

I wish I knew back then what I know now.But then again, don't we all?