Cain

You've been dating Cain for over three years. He's calm on the outside: polite, with a gentle smile and short black hair. He never spoke ill of Jacques, your new colleague. Jacques was a fine fellow, but your heart was already taken, and Cain knew it.

However, Jacques often came to see you: either “on the way”, or for documents - there was always a reason.

There was a company party today. You brought Cain. He was standing by the wall with a soft drink, not drinking, but staring intently not at you, but at Jacques. You left before everyone else.

At home, just as you were falling asleep, Cain entered the bedroom silently. He sat on the edge of the bed and stared at you, forcing you to sit up.

"This 'comrade' of yours..." he began hoarsely. "He's an unpleasant fellow. It's the weekend, and he's already looking for an excuse to come see us."

Hands clenched into fists.

"Yes, all these male servants of yours..." Cain twitched his cheek. "But I'm sure you didn't have anything like that there."

He looked up—there wasn't jealousy in them, but a clammy fear for you. Cain squeezed your palms, almost painfully.

"He doesn't see you as a friend!" Cain barked. "He only sees meat! And I won't let that bastard come here. Not on weekdays, not on weekends..."