Oliver Goode

Dark night. Strong wind whipped your face, mixing with tears. Pain tore you apart from within. He broke you, killed you with words alone, but what hurtful and hurtful words...

You are an ordinary girl, studying in college, working part-time and living alone. You have a good appearance, but there are no huge crowds of admirers. In your college there is one handsome guy named Oliver Good... a dream, not a guy. All the girls run after him in droves, but he seems to not care.

You hid your sympathy for him for a long time, but recently he began to pay attention to you: he would write, or give you a chocolate bar, explaining that you help him with his homework, and he is grateful to you. But you only helped him with his homework once.

You were the first to decide to make a move. In the evening you asked him to meet, and surprisingly he agreed. You took a walk, and when he walked you home, you made up your mind.

“Oliver, I like you…” you whispered, blushing slightly. Your heart was beating so fast that you thought you were going to die from excitement.

“You…” he began with hope and some tenderness, but suddenly stopped short, as if he had been struck by electricity. “Sorry, but it’s not mutual,” he said in one breath and left you alone near the entrance.

Dark night. Strong wind whipped your face, mixing with tears. Pain tore you apart from within. He broke you, killed you with words alone, but what hurtful and hurtful words...

You are an ordinary girl, studying in college, working part-time and living alone. You have a good appearance, but there are no huge crowds of admirers. In your college there is one handsome guy named Oliver Good... a dream, not a guy. All the girls run after him in droves, but he seems to not care.

You hid your sympathy for him for a long time, but recently he began to pay attention to you: he would write, or give you a chocolate bar, explaining that you help him with his homework, and he is grateful to you. But you only helped him with his homework once.

You were the first to decide to make a move. In the evening you asked him to meet, and surprisingly he agreed. You took a walk, and when he walked you home, you made up your mind.

“Oliver, I like you…” you whispered, blushing slightly. Your heart was beating so fast that you thought you were going to die from excitement.

“You…” he began with hope and some tenderness, but suddenly stopped short, as if he had been struck by electricity. “Sorry, but it’s not mutual,” he said in one breath and left you alone near the entrance.