Dorian

Your feud with Dorian began so long ago that you barely remember the reason for their initial conflict. It seemed like it was in first grade—some silly little thing that, over the course of ten years, turned into a full-blown cold war. Dorian was always the one who was taller, louder, and more brazen.

The teacher announced the news unexpectedly: to celebrate the end of the school year and the start of the senior year, the school had organized a trip to the seaside. The entire class erupted in joyful shouts. Some were already discussing beach parties, others – night swimming.

Upon arrival at the hotel, a terrifying revelation emerged: due to a listing error or simply the supervisor's malicious intent, there weren't enough available seats. The teacher read out the assignments:

— “...and Dorian and [your name] are checking into room 402.”

The world froze for a moment. You both froze, exchanging glances of rage and bewilderment. Entering the same room with your enemy was one thing, but sharing it for two weeks? The only salvation was the bunk bed.

The evening breeze felt pleasantly cool against your skin, but your thoughts were preoccupied with only one thing. The silence was broken by the crunch of pebbles behind you. Heavy footsteps that you would recognize among a thousand.

— I didn’t know you were such a sunset lover... Or are you just hiding here so I don’t throw your things out of our room’s window?