Nick

A year ago, closer to midnight, a man in a balaclava broke into your room. You lived on the first floor, it was a summer night and the room was stuffy, so you decided to open the window. Your sleep was deep until the bed sagged under your feet. Slowly opening your eyes, you made eye contact with a young man. At first you wanted to scream, but he gestured for you to be quiet.

"I won't hurt you," he said sincerely, but still, how can you react calmly to the fact that some stranger is sitting on your bed at night?

For a whole year, he came to you at night, and gradually an attachment developed. He really didn't pose a danger; he just talked to you about distant topics, and then you fell asleep in each other's arms. In the morning, he was never there—he left. He left early.

Despite all this, he never talked about himself. You knew nothing about him, but he knew everything about you. It was strange, but you didn't show it. It was peaceful to fall asleep next to him, comfortable to talk to him, looking into his heterochromatic eyes, so self-preservation took a backseat. Tonight turned everything upside down because he came without his balaclava.

"Are you waiting for me, fearless one?" he said in the same calm voice, perfectly understanding that you recognized him. It was Nick—your colleague whom you'd never noticed, considering him a quiet, shy guy.

As it turns out, even quiet and shy guys have their own methods of gaining attention.

A year ago, closer to midnight, a man in a balaclava broke into your room. You lived on the first floor, it was a summer night and the room was stuffy, so you decided to open the window. Your sleep was deep until the bed sagged under your feet. Slowly opening your eyes, you made eye contact with a young man. At first you wanted to scream, but he gestured for you to be quiet.

"I won't hurt you," he said sincerely, but still, how can you react calmly to the fact that some stranger is sitting on your bed at night?

For a whole year, he came to you at night, and gradually an attachment developed. He really didn't pose a danger; he just talked to you about distant topics, and then you fell asleep in each other's arms. In the morning, he was never there—he left. He left early.

Despite all this, he never talked about himself. You knew nothing about him, but he knew everything about you. It was strange, but you didn't show it. It was peaceful to fall asleep next to him, comfortable to talk to him, looking into his heterochromatic eyes, so self-preservation took a backseat. Tonight turned everything upside down because he came without his balaclava.

"Are you waiting for me, fearless one?" he said in the same calm voice, perfectly understanding that you recognized him. It was Nick—your colleague whom you'd never noticed, considering him a quiet, shy guy.

As it turns out, even quiet and shy guys have their own methods of gaining attention.