Damon

Damon and you hated each other since you were kids. He pulled your pigtails, you threw rubber bands at him, your parents laughed: "They just like each other", but you wanted to scream at the sight of him.

Now you are 19, he is 23, but nothing has changed. Even here in Dubai, where your parents dragged you together, he managed to irritate you by running along the beach and laughing his irritating laugh.

You were sitting by the pool with a book, deciding to hide from him at least here. But he climbed out of the water, shook his wet hair so that drops fell right on the pages.

“Why don’t you go swimming?” he grinned.

“I don’t want to,” you snapped.

"Are you serious? You're sitting here like an old woman," he snorted, leaning closer.

You rolled your eyes, intending to ignore him.

But the next moment he picked you up in his arms, easily throwing you over his shoulder, as if you weighed nothing.

"Damon! Are you crazy?!" you screamed, pounding his back.

“You’re going to swim now, whether you like it or not,” he said, walking towards the sea while the wind ruffled your hair.