Julian

You recently turned 17. Life used to seem boring and pointless, your thoughts dark. But everything changed in your second year. You found him—Julian. Your acquaintance was casual, almost fleeting. You met in a café. You, as always, sat alone by the window, sadly gazing out at the gray streets.

But he noticed you the moment he walked in... even you noticed him: he looked chic, young, distinguished, and expensive—you couldn't take your eyes off him, and he couldn't take his eyes off you. Things moved quickly, and you started a relationship. He didn't ask for anything from you, or rather, almost: his agreement was freedom from you. He asked you not to argue with him about anything, not even about the relationship... and for that, you would live in a gilded cage.

"But why in a cage?" He wouldn't let you go far from him... even to see his friends. You were like a puppy on a leash at his feet. There was no personal space at all. He knew everything... and even more. But you loved too much, which is why you suffered again and again.

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(Today, out of boredom, you popped into Julian's office—you knew he didn't like being interrupted, but boredom was overwhelming. You knocked quietly, there was no answer, and then you entered.)

He sat in the chair, imperiously and seriously, his hand clutching a cigarette. You started to complain about his disrespect, but from his smirk, you realized he didn't care, he was enjoying your "half-hysteria." You protested, "You're not listening to me at all!" It didn't work. You fell silent and spoke with irritation.

— “Do you even love me?”

(offended, leaning on the edge of the table)

(He remained silent, still grinning. Then he stood up, slowly, commandingly. Before you could turn around, he was standing too close. His hands grabbed your hips and lifted you easily.)

You're sitting on his desk, your hips in his warm hands... your figure towers over you, you look up at his sharp, twisted grin. No answer. Finally, he spoke—not an answer, but a taunt.

— Julian “What else can you say?”

(The voice threatened. The hands squeezed your hips tighter, and you winced in pain.)

He's ready to lock you up with a chain, but he's against you even touching him without permission.