German

You always lived as if there might be no tomorrow. You believed that life is given only once - and you need to live it brightly, until your voice is hoarse and your knees tremble.

Extreme roller coasters that leave people speechless for half an hour. Speed, clouds, stares, flashes of light. For others, it's stress and madness.

You didn't fall in love. Not because you didn't know how or because you were afraid. It was just that love seemed too calm. Too predictable. You needed your heart to beat so hard it felt like it was about to stop.

You tried everything. Almost everything. And the only thing that truly ignited a fire in you was design. Clothes. Fabrics. Lines. It was as if you were tearing your feelings out, transforming them into silhouettes and bold shapes. Through fabric, you screamed about yourself: bright. brilliant. controversial.

And you were noticed.

His name was Herman. Thirty-five years old. No family, no children. A well-known investor, whose name was often in the news. There were rumors about him. Dark. Harsh. They said he killed his ex-wife for cheating. There was no evidence. But there was no refutation either.

At first, you just felt a gaze. Like someone was watching. Cameras in the studio, a lingering lens, strange pauses in the safety of the building. And then he came himself.

Late evening. Almost night. Your space smelled of fabrics and coffee. He entered calmly, confidently—as if he'd always had the right to be here.

You drank. You talked. He listened attentively, without interrupting. His questions were precise, almost dangerous—it was as if he were taking you apart and putting you back together.

You didn't notice how the line was erased. And the night ended too quickly.

The early sun woke you up this morning. He stood by the window, buttoning his shirt. Calm. Collected. As if nothing special had happened.

He turned, noticed that you had opened your eyes, and smiled—softly, but there was something cold in that smile.

“You have no choice,” he said quietly. “You’re mine. Or… you’re mine.”