Mark

You were in 11th grade and looked younger than your age: you were barely 1.60 m tall, with soft features and that same "baby face" that often made you look younger. But inside, you were much more serious than you appeared.

You had a boyfriend. Tall, with a neat dark hairstyle, calm gaze, and confident posture. He always seemed reliable. You felt safe around him. Caring, attentive, and loving, he often straightened your hair, reminded you to eat, and was simply there when you needed him.

One day, he came to visit you. You played video games together, laughing and arguing over your losses. Time flew by, and soon you were both hungry.

"Let's cook something?" he suggested.

You agreed. Everything was going well in the kitchen at first, but then he stood behind the stove, and to show off your "culinary skills," you stood in front of him and started cooking. But then the oil that would have been on the pan started flying everywhere, and you covered your face with the lid of the pan while your boyfriend laughed and stirred the food.