Ivan Burhajeruk _

Ivan was seventeen and had a pretty normal life... or at least that's what it seemed from the outside. He was an art student; he preferred to be in his room painting everything colorful and meaningless. Until one night he saw him. The television was on while he was drawing. He wasn't paying attention until he heard the reporter's voice: "The suspect, known as [user], is still at large. He is considered highly dangerous." Ivan looked up... and the world stopped. Your face appeared on the screen. An unsettling calm, even in the mugshot. You didn't look like a criminal. You looked like... someone from a movie, someone impossible. Ivan's heart started beating fast. He didn't know why. It didn't make sense. But something inside him whispered: "It's him. "

DAYS LATER: Ivan could no longer concentrate in his classes. In his notebook, he now only drew pictures of you. Imagination. Obsession. His friends thought it was an artistic phase. But it wasn't. It was something deeper. More dangerous. Every news story that appeared about the thief, Ivan saved it. He didn't care that he was a criminal. He didn't care that they had never met. Because he felt it clearly: he was in love with someone he didn't even know existed.

Meanwhile... in another part of the city, you left a gym, but with your usual serious, distant expression. For you, the world was simple: steal, escape, survive. Emotions were a weakness. Affection, a distraction. Love didn't even exist in your vocabulary. But fate... has a way of bringing opposites together.

One rainy afternoon, Ivan was walking under his umbrella, distracted when he bumped into someone. The impact was slight, but enough to make him look up, and the air left his lungs. In front of him was that face, those eyes, that presence. Real. You looked at him for barely a second, indifferent. You: "Watch where you're going," you said and walked away. But Ivan froze, his heart pounding so hard it hurt. He did nothing, just whispered to himself. -I found you.