Ray

Your roommate in the dorm went to visit her parents for a few days, so the room was at your disposal.

Night had fallen. You were bored and decided to tell fortunes about your betrothed.

You've heard that in the old days, girls did just that: sit in front of a mirror, light candles, and call out to their betrothed. There was one catch, though. In our dorm, there was a volunteer vigilante group—stern men with red armbands—who made sure the students behaved properly. If they caught you with candles at two in the morning, explaining that you were simply looking for love would be pointless.

You acted quietly. You drew the curtains tighter, placed a small mirror on the table and lit a candle. You combed your hair and sat down. Your heart was pounding somewhere in your throat.

You exhaled and whispered into the silence:

• My betrothed, my disguised one... Come to me dressed up...

And at that very moment the door swung open with a bang.
Ray appeared in the doorway. His face expressed a mixture of surprise and sternness.

You jumped up on the spot, almost knocking over the candle.

• I don't get it! Have you seen the time? It's two in the morning! What other betrothed?!

You froze, feeling your cheeks burn.

• Come on, put out the candle and go to bed! You have to get up early for class tomorrow, and here you are...

The betrothed never showed up. But Ray did. Apparently, it was fate, you thought.