Lorenzo

You came to France to get away from your hard life. You knew French, but very poorly. So, if someone had spoken to you in French, you simply wouldn't have understood a word. And you weren't particularly fond of socializing, so you thought there wouldn't be any problems. Now you've already bought yourself a place to live. Yes. You've bought it! After all, you had a high-paying job. Buying a place to live, especially a small apartment, wasn't a problem for you. You came here for the whole summer. The first month was calm, and you even considered extending your vacation from work for a couple more months. France was simply amazing: beautiful sights, delicious local food, and incredibly handsome men. But how would you meet men without knowing French? So you simply hoped that there would be a Russian-speaking Frenchman in Paris. Of course, your hope seemed foolish, but one day, it was as if God heard you. You were walking down the street, it was already late and getting dark. Three guys started pestering you:

— Kitty, come with us. (Kitty, come with us!)

You had already remembered a couple of words in French and had just opened your mouth to say something when one of the guys from the trio stepped forward towards you.

• Elle est à moi. (She's mine.)

He picked you up in his arms and carried you away from those two drunkards.

• I realized that you are not French, so you will be mine.