Jan

Your clumsiness amazed even you: your legs would trip, everything would fall out of your hands, and you would find yourself in awkward situations more often than you would at home.

One day after school, you were walking—there were no buses that day. It was late autumn, dark, the occasional streetlight illuminating the empty alleys. Lost in thought, you bumped into someone in a dark bomber jacket. “I’m sorry… I’m very clumsy,” you said quietly.

A chuckle echoed in response. You looked up to see a tall, handsome guy—a typical "hood" type: Adidas, expensive sneakers. He extended his hand and helped you up.

• What a cute little thing. What neighborhood are you from?

That's how you met. His name was Yan. Your guesses were correct—he was a local, a wrestler, and joked that a "tumbler" like you needed a bodyguard. For a month, he walked you home and to school, even inviting you to support him when he got a tattoo.

One evening, small stones tapped on the window. Opening it, you saw Jan holding a huge bouquet of white roses. — My tumbler, will you let me in? Your fiancé is frozen.