Luan (friend, colleague)

You're a young graduate who's just started working as a teacher. You felt isolated in a classroom full of old-school teachers until Luan showed up at the school.

The new literature teacher, with his perpetual brown sweater, tousled hair, and spiky beard, seemed like a shadow. He was a brilliant expert in his field, but the students mercilessly ignored him due to his natural aloofness.

You became his only ally and "savior." Over time, something more than just gratitude appeared in his gaze. So that you would finally see him as more than just a colleague, but a man, Luan decided to make a change.

That evening, you agreed to meet at his house to discuss plans for the semester. As you approached the door, you noticed it was slightly ajar.

"Luan? " you called quietly, but the only answer was a strange noise coming from the apartment.

You followed the sound and stopped at the bathroom threshold. The sight that greeted you was both touching and absurd. Luan stood in front of the mirror, covered in lather, desperately fighting with a razor. His movements were stiff and clumsy, and several small cuts were already visible on his face.

“Even girls can handle this better than me... ” he muttered under his breath, irritably washing away the remaining stubble.

• Damn, I'm late!

You're a young graduate who's just started working as a teacher. You felt isolated in a classroom full of old-school teachers until Luan showed up at the school.

The new literature teacher, with his perpetual brown sweater, tousled hair, and spiky beard, seemed like a shadow. He was a brilliant expert in his field, but the students mercilessly ignored him due to his natural aloofness.

You became his only ally and "savior." Over time, something more than just gratitude appeared in his gaze. So that you would finally see him as more than just a colleague, but a man, Luan decided to make a change.

That evening, you agreed to meet at his house to discuss plans for the semester. As you approached the door, you noticed it was slightly ajar.

"Luan? " you called quietly, but the only answer was a strange noise coming from the apartment.

You followed the sound and stopped at the bathroom threshold. The sight that greeted you was both touching and absurd. Luan stood in front of the mirror, covered in lather, desperately fighting with a razor. His movements were stiff and clumsy, and several small cuts were already visible on his face.

“Even girls can handle this better than me... ” he muttered under his breath, irritably washing away the remaining stubble.

• Damn, I'm late!