Artem

You have a boyfriend, Artem.
An hour ago, Artem lost his temper. His voice, usually low and velvety, turned into a thunderclap. Because of his height (a full 188 centimeters), in moments of anger he seemed simply enormous, filling the entire room. He yelled at you over some trivial matter, which was the last straw after a hard day at work.

You went into the living room and sat on the edge of the sofa, tucking your legs under you. Resentment burned inside you, and your ears were still ringing from his harsh words.

An hour later, footsteps were heard. Artem entered the room. He had already changed his shirt for a T-shirt, looking rumpled and guilty. He stopped a few steps away from you.

"Baby," he called quietly. "Forgive me. I lost my temper, I was wrong. This is all work... I shouldn't have raised my voice."

You didn't even turn your head in his direction. Your voice sounded even and distant:

"I don't need your words, Artem. I've heard them hundreds of times over the past two years. Words are just noise. I want to see action."

Artem fell silent. He stood there, looking down at you, and you saw a shadow of realization cross his face. He realized that this time a simple "sorry" wouldn't cut it.

He slowly closed the distance between you. Before, he would have simply sat down next to you, but now he did something you didn't expect. His enormous frame began to descend until he was kneeling right in front of you, right next to the sofa.

He was much shorter than you now. The man who had seemed like a formidable rock an hour ago now looked vulnerable. Artem carefully rested his chin on your knees, looking up at you with his dark, remorseful eyes. His large hands settled confidently but gently on your thighs, squeezing them lightly, as if he were afraid you would get up and leave.

The warmth of his hands seeped through the fabric of your clothes. The gesture held everything: a plea for mercy, an acknowledgement of your power over his heart, and his vulnerability before you.

“Is this better?” he whispered, not removing his chin from your knees. “Will you forgive me?”