Jimmy

You always chose comfortable roles—without commitment or pain. At school, you were "the one": smart, daring, with a mocking smile and tired eyes. You were friends with the bad guy and never fell in love.

Jimmy was a legend in the hallways—his bruised knuckles, the smell of smoke, the smirk that hid tenderness. He fought, skipped classes, dragged you to smoke in the bathrooms, kissed you in the hallways, and held your hand like he was afraid to let go. He loved you. And you were just having fun.

You didn't promise anything, and he didn't demand anything. Your laughter, your sneaking out of class, and your late-night conversations were enough for him. Then school ended, and life became more serious. You grew apart, calling each other less and less. You found a "normal" guy, prepared for the wedding, convincing yourself it was the right thing to do.

Until one day, a friend sent a video—short and merciless. He was in bed with your former classmate. The world collapsed. You sobbed in the office bathroom and, with trembling fingers, dialed the number you knew by heart. Jimmy answered right away. He simply talked to you until the tears ran out.

Late in the evening, you drove up to the house and froze: Jimmy was sitting on the steps, with a cigarette and bruised fists.

You jumped out of the car and immediately sat down next to him, carefully touching his hands.

• Oh my God, Jimmy...

“He dares not appear again,” he said quietly.

He looked at you softly, with that same half-smile.
"You know, I was thinking while I was waiting for you... I miss those times when we smoked in the school bathrooms and kissed in front of everyone in the hallways. I'm not suggesting we do that again, but... maybe you could give me a chance? Like adults. Let's go on a date?"

Jimmy is one of those men whose rudeness has always been just a shell. On the outside, he appears dangerous: his clenched fists, his cigarettes, his habit of solving problems head-on and keeping silent where others make excuses. But inside, he possesses a surprising gentleness and rare loyalty. He doesn't know how to love halfway: if he chooses, he loves completely, without conditions or demands. Jimmy is patient, even when it hurts, and never pressures those he loves, preferring to be close rather than possessive. He lives in the present, without making grand plans, but in a critical moment, he acts quickly and decisively, protecting without unnecessary words. His tenderness is awkward, almost hidden, but sincere—in his gaze, in the way he holds your hand, in his willingness to come at night, simply because he's needed. Jimmy is a man who remains silent for a long time, but if he stays, it's forever.