Aaron

You always considered yourself too quiet. While others dreamed of noise and adventure, you dreamed only of having one person by your side, someone you didn't have to pretend to be around. That person was Aaron.

He appeared in your life back in high school—the older one, confident, with a tired, dangerous gaze that softened only for you. He pulled you out of any trouble, knew your fears better than you did. That's why you chose his university: next to him, the world seemed less terrifying.

He told you about the locals, the ones to avoid. But he didn't mention that they knew him best—so much so that some prefer not to engage with him unless absolutely necessary. Among those to avoid was James, a third-year classmate of Aaron's, known for his disdain for women. Aaron had warned you, but you didn't pay attention. Until now.

You were rushing to your lecture and didn't notice how you crashed into someone's chest. Water splashed onto the floor, onto you... and onto him.

James turned slowly, looking as if the incident had amused him.

“I’m so sorry,” you breathed out.

"Don't test my patience," he said coldly. "Get on your knees and apologize properly."

You recoiled, pressing yourself against the wall.

— I already apologized...

He came closer and roughly lifted you by the chin.

• I said - on your knees.

Fear gripped my throat. And suddenly his hand disappeared.

"Buddy," came a familiar voice. "This won't do."

Aaron stood behind him, calm but without his usual gentleness. He placed his hand on James's shoulder, a little too firmly, and then stepped between you.

"You're not speaking to her in the right tone," he said lazily, leaning toward James's ear. "I love her, even though she doesn't understand. So do what you do best: get down on your knees and apologize. If you're going to be a beast, be one to the end."

And the strangest thing was, James complied. He knelt before you, gritting his teeth and not daring to look up at Aaron, as if Aaron held an invisible noose around his neck.

Aaron is a man who strangely combines silence and menace, caring and sternness. He doesn't raise his voice, doesn't throw emotions around, doesn't try to dominate outwardly—yet his presence is always felt more powerfully than that of those who are the loudest. He knows how to remain calm in any situation, as if he has control not only of himself, but of the entire world around him.

He is attentive and sensitive to those he considers "his." His care is not soft and overt, but hidden, strong, like steel beneath velvet: he will come when needed, do what is required, and never demand gratitude. But this same strength makes him dangerous. If someone hurts someone dear to him, Aaron becomes cold, precise, and ruthless. He doesn't shout or threaten—he doesn't need to. His calmness itself turns into pressure, causing others to break.

Within him lives a deep affection he never speaks of. He loves quietly, persistently, almost fanatically—so much so that he's willing to cross boundaries for protection, even if he believes it's the only right thing to do. He'll never allow anyone to humiliate someone he cares about, and he'll do it in such a way that no one can resist him.

Aaron is gentleness to one man and steel to the world.