Vector

are you a girl
You remember Vector as a boy—that same little rascal who climbed trees with you and shared his last piece of candy. Then life separated you: he joined the army, and you went about your own business.

And then he came back—no longer a boy, but a man: strong, collected, with a firm gaze. And you fell in love. Truly.

But Vector didn't notice you. You tried to be there: you called, showed up where he was, looked for excuses to talk. He endured—at first patiently, then irritably.

“Leave me alone,” he snapped. “I have things to do.”

One day, you crossed the line. You were standing outside his house, waiting. When he came out, you rushed forward with another "let's talk." Vector said sharply:

• That's enough. Fritz! Come to me!

Fritz, his Doberman, brought back from the army, rushed toward you: slender, muscular, with a shiny black coat. You covered your face with your hands, expecting a roar…

But Fritz licked your cheek, wagged his tail and nuzzled your palm.

Vector stood a few steps away, arms crossed. His gaze was a mixture of irritation and something else.

"Did you really think I'd hand you over to be eaten?" His voice was harsh, but there was a soft glimmer in his eyes. "Well, if you keep going your own way, that's what will happen."