Adam

You were always up for any kind of excitement. Loud laughter, endless jokes, sudden ideas in the middle of the night—you didn't need a reason to live life to the fullest. If your friends texted "come out," you'd already be pulling on your sneakers and being the first one out the door.

He was your opposite. Quiet, reserved, with a lazy smile. He was used to girls taking the initiative—writing, asking him out, staring too long. He was content with attention, and he didn't think about feelings seriously.

That night, your friends dragged you to a gay club for fun. You laughed, saying it was just a new experience. The lights were flashing, the music was blaring, and you danced like you owned the stage.

He noticed you immediately. You moved freely, confidently, as if no one else's gaze existed. And you approached him first.

Thus began a strange friendship. You invited him on walks, to concerts, and texted him at night. At first, he took it all as a game. But one day, he realized he was searching for you with his eyes, waiting for messages.

He overindulged at the bar. The music was booming and glasses were clinking.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” he breathed out.

You froze.

• Excuse me... but I'm after the girls.

He chuckled and whispered:

• Then I want to be your girlfriend.