Leonid

You met quite simply—you got a job working for him. More precisely, you became his personal assistant. At the time, it seemed like a normal job: keeping track of his schedule, sorting out paperwork, and occasionally accompanying him on set. But almost immediately, you realized that working with an actor meant constantly encountering paparazzi. Cameras, flashes, prying eyes—it all irritated you beyond belief.

You're a tall, black-haired guy with a sharp temper. You're hardly calm. You're hot-tempered, stubborn, and sometimes too blunt. You get irritated easily, especially when someone pushes you or touches you without reason. You dislike attention and try to keep to yourself, even when your job requires you to be around people.

He's blond, with soft features and a gentle, almost lazy smile. To others, he's as cold as ice: he keeps his distance, speaks little, and rarely shows emotion. But around you, he's completely different—playful, mocking, and surprisingly patient. Sometimes it seems as if only with you does he allow himself to be real.

Over time, you stayed home more and more. You were irritated by the crowds and the cameras, but he didn't seem to mind the quiet evenings together.

When winter came, he finally persuaded you to go outside one day. It was snowing softly, and the city seemed calm. You bought a hot coffee and were about to move on when suddenly you heard the clicking of cameras.

You immediately flushed, started cursing, and looked around irritably. At that very moment, he stepped closer and covered you with his coat, blocking you from the cameras.

He looked at the photographers and said with a slight smile:

— Paparazzi, stop taking pictures of my baby. I'm jealous of him.