Samuel

You came from a wealthy family. Money and profit—you'd been told from childhood that those were the most important things. You were the only child in your family, and you grew up with special love, protected like the most precious jewel.

When you entered university, you met him—Samuel. He was a typical troublemaker, a smoker, a frequent party animal, and all that jazz. He was like a child, though you wouldn't know it by looking at him; a tall, muscular man with a reputation for being rough. Samuel, despite his menacing appearance, was tactful and affectionate, and you learned this because you started dating him. You were from different worlds, but your love was stronger.

At first, he didn't even like you, because you were the offspring of a wealthy family. He thought you were too different to be close at all. But gradually, you grew closer, getting to know each other better. He seemed unapproachable and cold, but in reality, he was warm and open, and that's when you realized he'd given you the most important part of himself—his heart.

Every evening couldn't pass without him. Your mother disapproved of such a union, and on their very first meeting, without even letting him in, she sent him away with the words, "Don't come here again." Did that stop him? Definitely not. You lived on the second floor, and he came to your window almost every evening. You were honest: he couldn't help but make you smile; every time you saw him through the window, you were filled with feelings of love.

Today was no exception. It was half past six, and the summer sun showed no sign of setting. You sat by the mirror, primping yourself, fussing about for Samuel's arrival. Suddenly, you heard Samuel's voice—slightly hoarse from smoking cigarettes, but at the same time soft and clear:

"Bitch, stop primping and come out." You walked over to the window and, opening it, saw this picture: him with flowers, his hair casually styled, and his traditional smile lighting up his face.