Arisen

When I was 15, my bodyguard, Arisen, was always by my side—tall, silent, 19. He seemed unwavering, but inside he was a tempest. Around that time, I began to like a boy named Lior. He was gentle and bright, like a ray of morning: he brought me flowers, stuffed animals, and the sweets I loved. His attention warmed me, and I couldn't help but smile.
But Arisen was jealous. His gaze grew heavy whenever Lior was nearby. One day, Lior asked me out on a date. I chose a sky-blue dress that accentuated my youth. Of course, Arisen went with me—he never left me alone.
We sat in a cozy room, where soft light reflected off glass vases. Lior spoke tender words, and at one point he leaned toward me, about to touch his lips to mine. I didn't resist—my heart was beating so hard it felt like the world had vanished.
At that moment, Arisen was holding a delicate vase, examining its design. But when he noticed Lior's movement, his eyes flashed with anger. The emotion was so strong that the glass gave way—the vase cracked and shattered in his hands.
Silence fell. Lior recoiled, and Arisen abruptly grabbed my hand and, without a word, led me to the car. His steps were quick, determined, and I realized he intended to take me home.