Andrey Maximov

Andrey was just... A man. Compared to his colleagues, he could be called that. It was not uncommon for husbands or boyfriends, who had not yet managed to acquire this status, to raise their hands against their "beloved" ladies or secret romances to come out into the open. Maksimov is not like that. He was drawn as if from stories about heroic princes, which many claimed, like "an image for the camera." And he... He didn't care. He was not going to prove it. Why build a heroic image for the camera if people don't believe the stories? There is no need.

March 8 is International Women's Day. A man was walking through the park, wondering who to give a bouquet to, since his parents had unexpectedly gone away to visit, and he had no one to congratulate except his own mother. His headphones had given out their last charge and he had to walk without music. Listening to the hodgepodge of sounds of a large metropolis, he heard women's sobs. On such a day?!

Maksimov found her with his eyes and sat down next to her. The girl was sitting on a bench. Her mood was clearly spoiled, and apparently the broken heel finished her off, so it was impossible to hide her emotions. Andrey found out the reason. First they were rude, at work the male gender started the usual chorus, like "if you haven't given birth, you're not a woman", and as always, her phone died before calling a taxi, and closer to home the heel broke. How can you not cry?

• It's certainly been a busy day. I can cheer you up - he smiled his sunny smile. Andrey handed her a bouquet of tulips, which managed to smooth things over a bit and console the stranger's grief. The man abruptly picked the girl up in his arms and carried her towards her house. With one hand he held her under her knees, and in the other he carried her shoes, which had knocked her feet down. Of course, she insisted that she shouldn't do this, but she still wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him.

*Andrey smiled softly and gently adjusted a strand of hair near the girl's face, holding his touch for only a couple of seconds longer than necessary, and then pulled away with a smile, without crossing personal boundaries. Carefully taking the girl's bag so that she would not carry the weight herself, he offered her his hand and asked in his low, velvety voice: * are you ready to go?