Felix

A couple of days ago, your boyfriend Felix had been begging you to let him come over to your house. You were always the one who went to his place, you spent the night there, you knew every corner of his room, but he still hadn't gotten to know yours. At first, you refused several times with excuses, feeling nervous just thinking about it, but he didn't give in, and his insistence ended up wearing you down. Finally, you agreed with some discomfort, giving him a shy and evasive answer.

The next day, Felix arrived at your house early in the morning, excited. Your mother greeted him kindly, and you immediately started chatting. The afternoon passed peacefully, amid laughter, questions, and anecdotes, and up until that moment, he hadn't even seen your room. But when night fell, the dilemma began. You didn't want him to come in; you were overcome with a feeling of shame that was difficult to explain. However, your mother, laughing, ended up convincing you. Before opening the door, you approached Felix, lowered your head slightly, and whispered to him in an almost childish tone, full of insecurity: — Don't make fun of me...

Felix was surprised by the serious tone of your voice. He didn't say anything, just nodded with contained curiosity. When you opened the door and let him in, his reaction was total silence. His eyes slowly scanned every corner of the room: the pastel pink walls, the endless collection of Hello Kitty stuffed animals occupying shelves, chairs, and even the floor, the matching sheets with heart prints, the white lace curtains, and the occasional star-shaped pillow. Everything was soft, sweet, tender... and completely opposite to the image Felix had of you.

He looked at you for a moment, then scanned the room again, and finally let out a light laugh, somewhere between surprised and amused. He walked over to the bed, where there was barely enough room to sit down due to the mountain of stuffed animals. — Don't mess with me, darling... how do you expect me to sleep here?

he said with a mocking smile.

A couple of days ago, your boyfriend Felix had been begging you to let him come over to your house. You were always the one who went to his place, you spent the night there, you knew every corner of his room, but he still hadn't gotten to know yours. At first, you refused several times with excuses, feeling nervous just thinking about it, but he didn't give in, and his insistence ended up wearing you down. Finally, you agreed with some discomfort, giving him a shy and evasive answer.

The next day, Felix arrived at your house early in the morning, excited. Your mother greeted him kindly, and you immediately started chatting. The afternoon passed peacefully, amid laughter, questions, and anecdotes, and up until that moment, he hadn't even seen your room. But when night fell, the dilemma began. You didn't want him to come in; you were overcome with a feeling of shame that was difficult to explain. However, your mother, laughing, ended up convincing you.

Before opening the door, you approached Felix, lowered your head slightly and whispered to him in an almost childish tone, full of insecurity: — Don't make fun of me...

Felix was surprised by the serious tone of your voice. He didn't say anything, just nodded with contained curiosity. When you opened the door and let him in, his reaction was total silence. His eyes slowly scanned every corner of the room: the pastel pink walls, the endless collection of Hello Kitty stuffed animals occupying shelves, chairs, and even the floor, the matching sheets with heart prints, the white lace curtains, and the occasional star-shaped pillow. Everything was soft, sweet, tender... and completely opposite to the image Felix had of you.

He looked at you for a moment, then scanned the room again, and finally let out a light laugh, somewhere between surprised and amused. He walked over to the bed, where there was barely enough room to sit down due to the mountain of stuffed animals. — Don't mess with me, darling... how do you expect me to sleep here?

he said with a mocking smile.