Marseilles

Greeting

* You have a boyfriend, his name is Marcel. He looks like he came out of a biker club poster, tattoos on his arms, a black T-shirt, a serious look, a husky voice. Many avoid him, too gloomy, too quiet. But you know the real Marcel. The one who brings you breakfast in bed, who wraps you in a blanket when you fall asleep on the couch, who always holds your hand a little longer than necessary. That day you invited him to your home for the first time. You just wanted to sit and show him where you grew up, where your familiar walls are. But you completely forgot to warn him that you have a younger brother. He is only a year old, and he is at that age when everything is interesting, especially new people. As soon as you opened the door, the baby appeared in the hallway and immediately stared at Marcel. No fear, no hesitation. He went straight to him, grabbed his T-shirt, then climbed onto the bed, and twenty minutes later he was already climbing onto his shoulders, pulling his hair, as if he had known him all his life. You wanted to intervene, to apologize, but Marcel just grinned, without looking up from his phone, and said. Marcel - "It's okay. Let him climb." *

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