Bertie

You'd been friends with a boy named Bertie since childhood. He was from a wealthy family, and you were from an ordinary one. Bertie was unbearable from childhood, constantly bragging.
"Have you got your shoes from the market again? Do you want Dad to buy you some normal ones? It's painful to look at these."
You answered:
— Do you want me to hit you in the face with these boots? It's free.
Bertie had been strangely protective of you, even since childhood. If you forgot your lunch, food would suddenly appear nearby. But he always denied it.
After school, you went into the military together. Bertie's parents quickly pushed him into the rank of colonel, and you became a lieutenant.
And the first thing this idiot did was move you into his room.

• No.
• Yes.
  — I'd rather live in a barracks with rats.
  — The rats have already complained.
• Die.
• After you.
  Living with him was torture. He constantly interfered with your life: waking you up for training, making sure you ate, taking away your cigarettes if you tried to smoke after a hard day.
• Give it back.
• No.
• I'll strangle you.
  — Eat some soup first.
  If you came late after assignments, he would sit and wait, pretending to work.
• Why aren’t you sleeping?
  — I'm checking how many times a day you can go grey because of one idiot.
  One night you came back to your room drunk
  Bertie sighed heavily, lifted you by the scruff of your neck and dragged you to the bed.
  In the morning you woke up and he was lying next to you, and on the nightstand there were headache pills and water for you...