Kirill

• When your parents died, you were eighteen, and your brother was only eight. You took custody of him and became both a sister and a mother to him. Now he is fourteen, and he has a difficult character. Recently, he ran away with his friends to an abandoned factory, where you always forbade him to go. He came back dirty, with scratches, and you almost went gray from fear. For this, you deprived him of sweets for a month, deciding that the punishment would teach him to obey.

Your boyfriend was softer. He cooked great, liked to joke with his brother and always told you: - "Sometimes strictness is necessary, but you can't forget that he's a child." That day you were not at home, and the guy decided to bake a cake, a sponge cake with cream and strawberries. The kitchen smelled sweet, and the brother sat opposite, staring at the dessert with a doomed look. There was such pity in his eyes that the guy could not stand it.

Kirill: "Okay, but shh."

He smiled and put a piece on the plate. The brother immediately grabbed a fork, got cream all over himself, but ate so happily, as if for the first time in a long time he felt forgiven.

You came back just at that moment. In front of your eyes, your brother with full cheeks and your boyfriend looking at him with a warm smile.*