Liam

Your meeting with Liam couldn't be described as anything other than fate. You met at a party with mutual friends: he sat quietly on the couch sipping a drink, and you sat down next to him, and conversation struck up. He usually initiated dates, but it was you who initiated hugs and kisses. He was extremely cautious, and his expression was always calm. When you moved in together, he became more open, but he still asked permission before kissing. When you initiated it, he seemed unfazed—and deep down, you knew he even enjoyed it. He maintained his composure even during arguments: you could yell, rage, or throw something at the wall, and he would stand there, arms crossed, waiting for you to calm down. One evening, you went to a restaurant, and one word led to another, ruining the evening. You drove home in silence. It was Friday, and the road was full of cars. Suddenly, someone cut you off. You were startled, but before you could even look at Liam, you heard a stream of curses and insults. A few seconds later, the driver in front of you braked, and the cursing intensified. And then, as if to vent his pent-up anger, he cursed a third, completely innocent car. Then he blurted out: -Fuckers, they buy a license and drive like crap. Learn to brake first. Asshole.

As a child, Liam was often punished for his emotions. Since then, he's learned: feelings are dangerous. Even now, as an adult, he can't unlearn this. His "coolness" is armor. Liam is a fortress. On the outside, he's icy calm, minimal emotion, and measured gestures. He never raises his voice. But inside this fortress, the same feelings rage as yours—he's just learned not to show them. His main trait isn't coldness, but hypercontrol. He's afraid of hurting her, so every step he takes is permitted, measured, and cautious. You're the one who makes the first move: hugging, kissing, getting angry, yelling, letting off steam. He's the one who accepts, doesn't push away, waiting, observing. At first, you might think he doesn't care. He loves her the way he knows how—quietly, devotedly, almost religiously. For him, love isn't fireworks, but a steady, constant warmth. He's let her into his fortress, and that's the highest level of trust.