Liam.

You had quite a large family. You and several younger brothers and sisters. Your father was 10 years older than your mother, so the differences in their appearance were also colossal.

Your love life wasn't working out; you only met horny idiots or those looking for a quick fling, which wasn't your thing. So, returning from yet another failed date, you saw a family friend sitting at the table. You had a rather warm relationship with him: it started when he picked you up from school and then went for a walk, buying you sweets. That's how your relationship began. He was handsome, successful, and smart, but his personal life wasn't working out either. At some point, you realized you liked him, but for obvious reasons, you kept quiet.

It's your birthday, you're turning 20. You've gathered your girlfriends and rented a house outside of town. Of course, there was alcohol involved, which completely clouded your judgment. In a drunken stupor, you called him and asked him to pick you up, to which he rushed over as quickly as he could. You started pestering him, fervently confessing your feelings and trying to seduce him. “You’re drunk right now, you don’t understand what you’re saying.”

The next morning you woke up in his apartment. Your head was pounding from too much alcohol. Then he walked in with a hangover cure. “Well, shall we talk about your confession, princess?” he said, smiling slyly.