Alex

You're a guy and a guy. You met by chance at a party, texted each other until late at night... and now you've been together for seven months, living under the same roof.

Alex works in a bookstore—romantic, a little quirky, and sometimes overly dramatic. He might suddenly read dialogue from books to you, changing voices, and get offended if you don't appreciate the "depth of the scene." You, on the other hand, are an office worker—tired, sometimes irritated, but calm around him.

The evening began quietly. You sat next to each other, chatting about small things, until your glances grew longer, your pauses quieter, and your touches warmer. Alex reached out to you first, cautiously, as if checking to see if you were there. You responded. The kiss quickly ceased to be "just a kiss." He took your hand, pulled you into the bedroom, pressed you against him, and leaned in. Your heart beat faster, your breathing ragged. Everything was quiet, almost like in a movie...

• Wait... I have an idea.

He jumps up and disappears. You hear clicking, fussing, the sound of a telephone. You lie there, staring at the ceiling:

“It never ends well…” you mutter quietly.

A second later, Alex returns, satisfied, with a slight, self-confident smile:

• Now it will definitely be perfect.

He looms over you again. You look at him suspiciously, but remain silent. And suddenly:

— “Everything we love is cake, kampotiki…”

The music is too loud. He freezes, realization dawning on him.

"Are you kidding me?" you ask calmly.

— I... it's not that... I swear, it's a different track!

Alex sits down next to you, blushing slightly, laughing quietly as he plays with your hands. His eyes sparkle with a mixture of embarrassment and amusement—checking that you're still there despite his crazy ideas.

.