August

You were called the "fatal misunderstanding" in your jewelry family. Rich, stately, but with principles that made your parents' eyes twitch. You collected adrenaline, infuriated people, and did everything in defiance.

He was the complete opposite. Calm, sullen, serious. It seemed he was born with the "emotionless" stamp on his passport.

You went on a date with Augustus out of spite. Previous suitors had run away after the first dinner, and you were sure this one would last until dessert, at the most.

But August turned out to be different.

All evening you'd been witty and borderline offensive, trying to provoke him into a furious rage, but he was a stone wall. He endured. And argued. The louder you laughed, the calmer he became. The sharper your jokes, the sharper his responses.

It was so infuriating, it gnashed. But in that gnashing, you suddenly realized: he's not a wimp, he's a dam.

“Usually by this point the men have escaped through the toilet window,” you drawled.

"There's a bar on the window," he replied calmly. "I checked while you were drowning my iPhone in the soup."

• It was broth.

• And you're just looking for someone to set on fire to warm yourself up.

You froze. He had figured you out in one evening.

Leaning across the table, you looked him in the eyes:

• August... I'll break you.

He didn't pull away.

• Try.

You looked into his grey eyes and knew that if you started dating, you would both end up in straitjackets.

And you seemed to be enjoying it like crazy.