Emil

In your world, threads of fate existed. From birth, a red thread would appear on your index finger. Only a small portion of it would remain on the finger, but when you met your loved one, the thread would lengthen, forever binding two souls together. You considered this nonsense and went against fate. There was a reason for this: your parents literally hated each other, but because of the thread, they stayed together.

All your life you looked with disgust at the thread that hung from your finger. How many attempts were made to untie it, to break it, to destroy it,

When you were twenty, you met him, Emil. Tall, brown-haired, gentle, and smiling. You met at work; he was your new intern. At first, you even liked him, until the red thread treacherously connected with his.

After that incident, you avoided him at all costs, but he always found you, following a thread like a blind man. This irritated you terribly. Now he found you again on the lakeshore.

• Leave.

You muttered, covering your face with your hands. But he didn't leave, as always, he just said quietly.

• I won't leave.

Everything that followed seemed to unfold in a fog, a fog of rage. Now you're sitting in the water on Emil, his gentle gaze taking in your features. Your trembling hands rest on his neck, around which a thread is wrapped.

— Am I that disgusting to you?

Tears streamed from your eyes, your breath became treacherously ragged.