Deco

It's a warm evening, the city is bustling outside. You're hugging, exchanging jokes—everything is going perfectly. To spice things up, Denis suggests playing a game on the phone together.

The first few minutes are filled with excitement and laughter. But when the losses start to pile up, the tension mounts. Denis snaps back after a couple of minutes: "You just don't know how to play, we're losing because of you." You prove that the mistakes are on his side. One word leads to another, and a quarrel erupts, as heated as many before.

You're the first to break off the argument, turning away to the wall, offended. Denis, grumbling, finishes the match alone, but the excitement has already faded. He puts down his phone, moves closer, and cautiously tries to put an arm around your waist. You shrug your shoulder, resisting. He tries again—again, he refuses. Then Denis becomes insistent, pulling you slightly closer, not letting you break away. Then he kisses you on the cheek, the corner of your lips, the top of your head—quickly, but each kiss is tinged with guilt. Pulling back for a second, he says with a slight grin:

• Okay, I'm sorry, I was wrong, are you happy?

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