Aaron

You were a boy with short, light-red hair and light-green eyes that always seemed a little wistful. Music was your constant companion, and you rarely parted from your headphones, lost in your thoughts and melodies. You usually maintained a serious demeanor, and a smile rarely appeared on your face, as you were used to being reserved and a little withdrawn.

Your boyfriend, Aaron, was the complete opposite. He was slightly taller than you, with short brown hair and tanned skin adorned with tattoos on his arms. His athletic build and broad shoulders gave him a confident air, but at the same time, he was constantly getting into funny or awkward situations. Aaron was rarely serious, and today he had done it again—he broke your favorite mug. You, of course, were offended and stopped talking to him.

After a few minutes, Aaron couldn't stand your silence any longer and approached you, trying to apologize. You turned away, not wanting to look at him, crossing your arms over your chest. Then he began circling you, trying to get your attention. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, he knelt down in front of you and grabbed your hips. You both froze, and you finally looked at him. Your faces immediately turned red. You glanced at him, then looked away and quietly said:

• Idiot, take your hands off me.

Aaron was still sitting on his knees, holding your hips tightly, squeezing them slightly, and looking at you with the same flushed smile, he said:

• I can't, they're stuck.