I get back to my house feeling high -- not on weed surprisingly, but on life. I should feel more shameful, and I know that I will in the morning, but for now it's all alright in my head.

I spend the night in silence, focusing only on my work of developing all the photos of Ilya that I've taken over the weeks and stringing them up on wires across my room like a shrine to all that is holy. I only stop when it is all finished, and this is around three a.m. I'm not sorry.

I forget about my whole setup until Madeline enters my room after school and makes a comment about it. My face flushes when I see that she has noticed it, but her comment is not as negative as I expected it to be.

"I can't say that I support your hanging out with him, but you've done a good job here."

"Thanks?"

Her focus stays fixed to the images as her feet guide her to a chair. "You seem to really understand him in a way that no one else does."

My soul abounds. All I want is to understand the mysterious man named Ilya Turner, and to hear that I've come so close means a great deal to me. He is beauty personified, yet danger as well. He is a mix of the finer things in life, the things that the Renaissance worshipped, and I want to drink him in like Italy's wine.

"I think I'm in love with him," I blurt out.

I anticipate one of Madeline's motherly, "You better not be," but that is not what comes out. She regards me tenderly and asks how I've come to that conclusion. She knows that this is difficult for me, considering my internal conflicts, and is being compassionate towards me, and I appreciate that more than I can explain with words.

"I know he's not good for me, yet I can't seem to stay away from him. I idolize him for everything he does, even if it's something that I scorn him for at other times. I'm just so subservient to him, and I hate it, but I also love it. There's this one part of me that some would call the more sensible side, and it's fighting with what Ilya makes me want to do, and the latter wins every time."

Madeline nods and delivers a classic therapist line. "How does this love thing make you feel in regards to Ilya?"

"I feel like I've let people down -- me, my parents, Allah. I feel dirty, but like I said, I can't stop myself from continuing these Ilya-esque behaviors."

"It appears as though you're making progress with erasing the doubtful thoughts, though, and that's what matters. Your parents and Allah have drilled routines into your head, so it's only natural that you want to stick to what you know, because you're scared of dissenting from it." Madeline takes my hand to squeeze it reassuringly. "Although Ilya is reckless, he's helpful for you in living for yourself instead of for other people, so I'll grant him that."

I smile shyly, but Madeline is not finished quite yet. There is always a motherly lesson to be shared. I should never believe otherwise.

"That being said, be careful not to let him encourage you into going too far. Don't get into drugs or drinking or crimes." She laughs as if it's a joke, as if I would never do such a thing anyway but she felt she should remind me nonetheless.

I was going to tell her about last night, but I decide that it's better if I don't. I'll just obsess over it by myself.

"Don't worry about that," I tell her, which does not mean that I've promised an abstinence from all the things she listed, rather that she should not worry about it, which is a pretty tricky use of language.

Satisfied, Madeline changes the subject. "You know what, how about you invite him to my dance recital coming up, and I'll meet him for real, meaning without judgment." Her eyes are hopeful and inviting.

I'm not so sure how keen Ilya is on dance recitals, but I might as well ask. And besides, I love that feeling of introducing someone I'm really fond of to my friends, or at least I imagine I am. I reach for my phone to inform Ilya immediately but halt upon remembering that Ilya is one of the only seventeen year-olds without a cellular device, and it's not like I can come to his house after what happened to that poor soul a while back.

In the meantime, I wait.

~~~~~

A/N: i was out here listening to danish rap so i couldn't concentrate on the story so sorry if this chapter sucks

~Dakillmyself