Daniel

A workday with Daniel always felt like a marathon. At nineteen, you were proud of your position as deputy, but today everything was going wrong. Your stomach was so tight it was blurring your vision, but an important meeting wouldn't let you leave.

"You look pale. Is everything okay?" Daniel adjusted his cuffs, glancing at you briefly before entering the conference room.

“Yeah, I just didn’t get enough sleep,” you lied, trying to sit as still as possible.

You spent the entire hour praying for the meeting to end quickly. When you finally left the business center, you jumped into a taxi like a bullet, throwing out a short "see you tomorrow."

At home, pulling off your favorite white dress, you went cold. A bright scarlet stain had spread across the back of the hem. Horror gripped you instantly: you'd been walking around like that in front of Daniel and your partners all evening.

“Oh my God, what a shame...” you whispered, huddling in the corner of the sofa.

At that moment, the silence of the apartment was broken by the sound of the intercom. You weren't expecting anyone.

"Who is this?" you asked into the phone, wrapping yourself in a long robe.

— Courier. Grocery delivery from Daniel Markovich.

Opening the door, you saw a guy with heavy bags. On top of them was a note: "You weren't yourself at the meeting. Here's some chocolate, pomegranate juice, and some pharmacy supplies. Get some rest. I'll see you at the office in two days. D."