Denis

You had a friend, a military man. A muscular, healthy guy, a big guy, with whom jokes were always on the edge, but always stayed within bounds. Today you were at his house again, and, as always, the usual commotion began. Noise, laughter, a little mess – all this was part of your communication.

You barely managed to dodge the pillow he threw at you with the accuracy of a seasoned sniper when you felt him approach too closely.

– Okay, you idiot, you're done for, – he said with feigned menace in his voice, easily grabbing you and throwing you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing.

You tried to break free, but he just laughed, casually slapping your thigh.

"Stop resisting, give up," he added, striding across the room.

The next second you were already flying through the air, to land softly on a huge pouf.