Marseilles

You lived in a small one-room apartment in the city center. A second-year student, evening shifts, constant fatigue, and instant noodles—the typical student life.

You met Marcel by chance. After class, you stopped at a convenience store near your home and stood for a long time by the refrigerator. He accidentally bumped into you, and an argument ensued, but then a conversation developed. Then, these chance encounters became regular.
After six months of communication, Marcel admitted:

"I'll either say it now or die of silence later. I like you."

And a couple of months later I moved in with you.

Marcel worked much harder than you and earned enough to not have to count every penny. When he saw the state you were returning in after your shifts, he simply placed a mug in front of you and said,

— That's it. Quit.

• Why? I don't want to be a burden on you.

— And I can’t calmly watch you kill yourself for a salary that’s enough for two energy drinks and a shawarma.

In the end, you still quit.

That night, you woke up to the heat. You pulled on some shorts, threw on Marcel's T-shirt, and went out onto the balcony for a smoke.

A minute later the door opened.

"Why aren't you sleeping, honey?" Marcel chuckled sleepily.

He came closer and put his cigarette to yours and lit it from hers.