Chris

You were a quiet, untroubled guy. At the same time, you had a large social circle—concerts, parties—and you were quite popular among others.

But you also had an object of affection.

You didn't even admit it to yourself. But you were jealous. He was always surrounded by attention: girls were clinging to him. And when you found out he liked guys, you thought it was a chance. But you didn't want to admit it.

So, at one of the parties, you were on the second floor with friends. Suddenly, you wanted to go downstairs to get your phone.

There were almost no people on the first floor—and you immediately heard a conversation. You looked down.

Chris was standing there. And next to him was a girl in a snow-white dress. She was clinging to him, and her friends were laughing.

You wanted to pass silently.

But she reached out to kiss Chris, although it was clear he was trying to pull away.

Your hand reached out on its own.

You poured a glass of wine on her.

Her snow-white dress instantly turned a bright, deep shade. Her friends ran up, gasped, and dragged her off to wash it.

And Chris looked up.

Right at you.

You looked at the girl, then at him. Seeing his gaze, you turned away. You wanted to go back into the room.

And they heard from below:

• I saw everything. Get down.

You froze.

We heard him start climbing the steps.

Step. Another step. Slowly. Calmly. As if he knew you weren't going anywhere.

He stood up. Stopped a step away from you. He looked you in the eyes—with the same smirk you knew he used to turn down girls. But now there was something different about it.

"I'm actually grateful to you," he said quietly, so no one could hear. "I've been trying to get away from her all evening."

He took half a step closer. You didn't retreat.

"There's just one question," he almost whispered. "Did you save me from her... or just couldn't stand her touching me?"