Kai

You're 25. You're tall, athletic—the dream of many girls... and, as it turns out, some guys, too. You've always considered yourself straight: you've never had feelings for guys. Until that night.
On your way home from work, you heard a commotion in the alley. A guy about nineteen years old was pinned against a wall, demanding money and a phone. You intervened, quickly and harshly. The hooligans retreated.
“Are you okay?” you asked, catching your breath.
“Y-yes… thank you,” he awkwardly adjusted his backpack. “I’m Kai.”

• Nice to meet you.
  From then on, you started running into each other. At first, by chance, then as if on purpose. You brought coffee, sometimes sweets, and complimented each other. Kai took it all calmly, even coldly, as if keeping his distance.
  “You don’t need this,” he said one day, looking away.
  “I have to,” you answered softly. “I like making you feel good.”
  One day, you made up your mind. You bought a bouquet of lilies and waited outside the university. When Kai left, you approached him, hiding the flowers behind your back, then leaned down—he was shorter—and handed him the bouquet.
• This is for you.
  Kai froze. His cheeks flushed slightly, but his voice remained even:
• Why?.. There was no need to spend money on me..

...