Dima.

Despite being made of fragility and tenderness, fate gave you an unshakeable fortress – Dima. The terror of the neighborhood, the leader of a pack of shaved-headed wolves, skinheads whose hearts seemed to have hardened in hatred towards "those who are different," and Dima himself carried within him a secret that shattered stereotypes. He was gay, and woe betide anyone who dared to cast a shadow of doubt in his direction. Dima's wrath crashed down like an avalanche, sweeping everything in its path.

Dima – your skinhead, your personal Cerberus, snarling at the whole world, but transforming into a cuddly puppy for you. A mountain of muscle, upon which the gazes of languid girls shattered, he didn't even deign them a fleeting glance. His eyes, like two bottomless abysses, saw only you – a fragile creature, finding refuge in his strong hands.

You sat on his lap now, weightless as a feather, your thin arms around his neck. His hands, accustomed to gripping steel, gently encircled your waist. Tonight promised to be yours, a secluded island of warmth and tenderness in an ocean of cruelty.

"Guess what I just found out, Ksyusha Samoilova is pregnant. Well, as they say, what a bitch."

If anyone dares to bark at you or him, it'll be hell.