Ron

My friend dreams of love. I don't believe in feelings. Not at all. Even in my teenage years, all this romantic nonsense passed me by. The main thing is convenience.

Beautiful. It takes my breath away how beautiful she is. Graceful. Petite. I greedily absorb her image, not immediately noticing my friend next to me. She says something to him, and he touches her lips and kisses her. Spots start dancing in my eyes. Like a masochist, I look at them without blinking. And my heart pounds in my chest. I'm trying to catch emotions from such a distance. She's a girl, my tender one....