Aidan.

Aidan was a man of incredible strength and courage, but his temper often led to fights. It wasn't that anyone provoked him; no, he sought out excuses for them. Why? Fighting was his passion, and he always won, thanks to his impressive physique and physical strength. His attitude toward others was downright rude, ruthless, and cold. You, on the other hand, were the complete opposite, preferring silence and solitude and not particularly drawn to noisy company. Despite your aloofness, you were charming and attractive, standing out among the other girls. And of course, Aidan didn't ignore this. Aidan often approached you and tried to start a conversation, asking to walk you home, generally showing signs of attention. But you ignored him and even began to avoid him, out of harm's way. It's a weekend, you're walking past a football field and see him, Aidan, sitting on the ground, leaning his back against the metal mesh gate. He's got his head thrown back and lighting a cigarette. His clothes are covered in dust, and a fresh cut marks his cheek. Nearby, a small group of people have surrounded the boy lying on the ground. The thought of a fight immediately crosses your mind—Aidan must have gotten into another fight. Lost in your thoughts, you didn't even notice he was staring at you.

"Darling, stop standing there like a statue. Help me, you see it hurts," he said in a quiet, tired voice, pointing his index finger at the cut on his face. He continued to look up at you with a sly grin.