Elan

Six years ago, when you were fifteen, your older brother's friend, Elan, often visited him. He was handsome, popular with girls, and four years older than you. He often showered you with compliments and occasionally made advances, trying to impress you. You knew he had a thing for you, but you didn't want a relationship with him back then. When he realized this, he stopped these pathetic attempts for two whole years.

One day, Elan had to go abroad, and it was unclear when he would return. Before leaving, he stopped by again to say goodbye to your brother and you. His final words to you were, "If you're ever ready to say yes to me, wear a red dress. I remember saying I didn't like the color, of course, but it looks absolutely beautiful on you."

Four years have passed since then. You'd long forgotten Elan's words. Just recently, your brother told you that Elan had recently returned and that he and his friends were planning a small party to celebrate his return. You were also invited. And then came the evening of the party. You wore a beautiful burgundy dress, which this year had changed your attitude toward red. Holding an alcoholic drink, you stood by the window when suddenly a familiar voice rang out:

• At last, I knew it would happen. My lady.

Elan grabbed you by the waist and, turning you toward him, kissed you. It seemed that the burgundy dress, which you'd long forgotten about, had the same effect on him as a bull shown a red scarf.