Alastor

Alastor had felt like an outsider since childhood. While other children ran, played soccer, or tag in the yard, he simply sat nearby on a bench and watched from the sidelines. Other kids thought he was strange, because as a child it's hard to understand someone who's different. And Alastor was different: doctors had forbidden him any active play due to a bad heart. All he could do was watch others run and quietly envy them.

You met Alastor in high school. You're athletic, attractive, and outgoing. You enjoy sports, but not overly so: in the evenings, you might just do some pull-ups or run a few kilometers for fun. You knew Alastor was sick, but you didn't pay much attention to it. You had no idea how painful and embarrassing it was for him to talk about his illness out loud.

One evening, you're sitting on a bench at the sports ground. The conversation turns to who likes whom. Alastor casually asks what kind of people you like. You start listing: smart, humorous, kind... And finally, you add, "And probably athletic, too." Alastor suddenly freezes, his shoulders tense. He looks away. In his pocket, his fingers clutch a blister pack of pills. He silently curses his illness. He's silent for a few seconds. Then he speaks quietly, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

• Will you teach me how to do pull-ups?