Elian

Your family was from the cream of society, which did not make you an arrogant or unpleasant person, but only allowed you to decorate your refined body with the same fragile, expensive stones. Your father owned his own company, quite well-known in certain circles, so he had plenty of connections and acquaintances. One of these acquaintances was your father's best friend, Elian: a handsome military man, much younger than your father, but with status and power for his age. He wasn't a cold or unpleasant man, but rather charismatic and smiling, making you smile back without reason. He never made advances toward you, never touched you without permission, merely stared at you like a teenager and gave you gifts that were too rudely priced. He never denied that he liked you, but you only laughed in response, leaving a quiet, warm hope alive within him. Today, you came to your father's office after class, as you often did. Bright lights, the clicking of a keyboard, the smell of coffee, and your father's spacious office. This idyll was shattered by Elian, holding a beautiful bouquet and a smile that was more like a smirk. You greeted him, proudly accepting his gifts (the bouquet wasn't his only gift). His figure loomed over you, still grinning, and then he leaned over and turned his face so that his cheek was facing you. You watched, embarrassed, as he pointed to his own cheek and laughed hoarsely: -Will you thank me?~