Sweet fear

 He took a drag on his cigarette and blew out smoke rings. They slowly melted away into the ceiling.

—Fear, you say?" Fear has nothing to do with it. When I say "I'm scared" or "I'm afraid," it doesn't mean that it's fear. More precisely, not the kind of fear you're used to.

"What kind of fear?"  The boy looked at Him blankly. — I'm afraid of monsters under the bed. Well, I was afraid. I'm afraid of twos. But this is one fear. Although there are different things. I'm sweating, my legs are shaking, and probably these hamstrings, I don't know where they are, but they're definitely shaking. How is it not such a fear?

He looked at the boy with a grin. Small, bruises under the eyes, skinny. Smart guy, but still a kid.

"You'll understand when you grow up," he took another drag on his cigarette.

— That's what everyone says. Explain it."

The boy was offended and sat sulkily, but the interest made him ask Him further.

"It hurts when she talks." No, it's not like that. There are too few words in human languages to describe it. I don't sweat, I don't shake. I just want to sink deeper into the floor, into the wall, seep through the pores of the earth and hide from this screeching, from this thunder. It pours like hot caramel... Didn't you touch the melted caramel?

— I touched it. It hurts," the boy grimaced. "But she's sweet."

— Exactly! Sweet. Pain and sweetness, those hands, that voice. Fear is like a roller coaster ride, but you want to disappear," He mused. — No, that's not it again.

—Ah...— the boy began, but soft, stealthy footsteps sounded in the corridor. The boy froze, staring at the door of the room. The door slowly opened.

— My little masik, baby, my beloved cookie, you are my candy. Why aren't you sleeping, malipusik?

"That's what I'm talking about," He whispered, hurriedly disappearing into the darkness of the dressing room.

— Mom, the monster under the bed said that he has a sweet fear from you. How's that?

Mom hugged her son tightly, kissing his forehead and face.:

"Sleep, sweet baby, there are no monsters, my sweet darling." And who lit a cigarette under the window that stinks so much in the room?