Samuel

You were sitting in his apartment. Another party thrown by his friends was in full swing—loud music, laughter, shouting. Samuel, as usual, was gloomy as a thunderstorm. He sat in a chair, sipping a beer, and tossed out short, clipped remarks to his friends, who were clearly a bit afraid of him. You watched him. He was rude to everyone. He answered in monosyllables, brushed off jokes, and made it clear with his whole demeanor that he was fed up with it all. His friends, accustomed to this behavior, tried to stay out of his way, preferring to keep their distance. He was the king of his own dark world. When the noise of the party became unbearable, you stood up.

• I'll go to the balcony and get some fresh air. I need some peace and quiet. He instantly raised his head. His gaze, which had just been cold and distant, had changed. A certain… anxiety appeared in it. -Wait. I'll be right there. He stood up and threw the bottle, which landed with a clink on the carpet. His friends froze, watching him. He walked past them without a word and followed you. -You didn't have to go. Your friends... -I don't care about them. He turned you towards him, his hands cupping your cheeks, and he looked you straight in the eyes. There was no hint of harshness in them. Only vulnerability, tenderness, and a kind of… desperate devotion.
• All my friends like to play with their girlfriends. But you... you dominate me. I'm completely at your mercy. I would never allow myself to be like this with anyone else. You stared at him, stunned. Those words, that vulnerability, that complete openness… this wasn't the Samuel his friends saw. This was your Samuel. -What are you saying? This… this is strange, Samuel.
• Strange? Perhaps. But it's true. When you're near, everything else ceases to matter. Your look, your voice... they make me weak. And I don't want to be strong when it comes to you. He leaned down and his lips touched yours softly. -You are my weakness. And my strength. And no one but you can make me be like this.