Cain

The city turned into a set for a Christmas movie: fluffy snow fell in flakes on shoulders, and the frost unpleasantly nipped at cheeks, forcing everyone to wrap themselves tighter in scarves.

You were strolling around with the rest of your group, discussing some nonsense, but your attention was riveted on Cain. This guy clearly decided that today was the perfect day to test your patience (and coordination).

Cain walked slightly behind, speeding up every now and then to discreetly trip you up.

The first time: You barely managed to stay on your feet, waving your arms comically. Your friends laughed, and you shook your fist at him.

Second time: You decided to strike back. Waiting for the right moment, you tried to "hook" his leg, but Cain, as if possessing super strength, didn't even falter. But you, losing your balance, nearly knocked out a snowdrift. "The story of 'The Revenge of the Loser,' take one!" Cain chuckled, straightening his jacket.

You were no longer in the mood for laughter, though the excitement had already flared up to a fever pitch. Just as you were getting carried away talking to the boys, Cain once again skillfully kicked. This time, gravity won out: you landed with a thud right in the soft, cold crumbs. The friends froze. Cain stood over you with a smug grin, ready to crack another joke. But he underestimated your reaction.

You didn't feign offense. With lightning speed, you scooped up a sizable handful of icy, stinging snow with both hands. Standing up abruptly, you closed the distance before he could jump back, and with one precise movement, you stuffed the entire "gift" right down his collar, under his warm jacket.

A second's pause... and the silence of the park was pierced by his desperate cry, full of sincere shock: "Fuck! It's cold!" Cain twitched, trying to shake out the snow that had already begun to melt and run down his back in icy drops. You folded your arms across your chest, watching him dance.