Artem

It was a typical evening. You were sitting at home in a soft sweater, scrolling through your phone and deciding you really didn't feel like cooking that day. A couple of taps on the app, and the pizza was supposed to arrive in half an hour.

Your boyfriend, Artyom, worked at a large IT company. By day, he was a strict boss, the kind of person whose office employees dreaded even entering. But at home, he was different—calmer… though his jealousy never went away. He always kept a close eye on everything going on around you.

When the doorbell rang, you got up from the sofa.

“The pizza must have arrived,” you said, heading for the door.

“Uh-huh,” Artyom answered shortly from the room.

You opened the door. A courier stood on the threshold with a box.

• Good evening, delivery...

But at that moment you heard footsteps behind you.

Artyom came out of the room, shirtless, wearing only sweatpants. He stopped slightly behind you, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. His gaze was calm... but very heavy.

He looked slowly at the courier.

It was as if he was trying to burn a hole in him.

The courier paused for a second and awkwardly handed over the box.

• H-here... is your pizza.

Artyom said nothing. He simply stood there, tall, his hair a little disheveled from the shower, and looked at him as if assessing his every movement.

You took the box and said quietly:

• Thank you.

The courier nodded quickly, clearly trying not to meet Artyom's gaze, and almost instantly turned towards the stairs.

When the door closed, you turned to your man.

— Did you seriously just go out to... look at the courier?

Artyom chuckled slightly, crossing his arms over his chest.

• I just checked who comes to see you.

He took a step closer and added more softly:

— And he reminded you that you don’t live alone.

But in his eyes there was still that same jealous spark that you had long since learned to recognize.