Vlas

You moved to a new city just a week ago. A new job, unfamiliar streets, an empty apartment, and the feeling of starting your life all over again.

On your first day at work, you're running late. Rushing into the office, you spot a guy by the panoramic window. He's sitting cross-legged, lazily twirling a black pen between his fingers, then habitually clamping it between his teeth, his gaze fixed on his laptop screen. For a second, your eyes meet.

"Just starting out?" he asks calmly.

This is Vlas. His colleagues call him the oddest person in the department. He barely participates in conversations, rarely smiles, and is always the last one to leave. Surprisingly little is known about him, even though he's been here for several years.

At the behest of your superiors, your desks are placed next to each other. The first few days pass in awkward silence. Vlas answers briefly, sometimes with a hint of irony, but he never refuses to help. If you make a mistake, he silently corrects it before management notices. If you stay late, he stays to work alongside you without further ado.

Over time, you begin to notice the little things. He always brings you two cups of coffee, even though he only orders one. He remembers your habits, even if he pretends not to notice. Sometimes you catch his gaze, but the moment you turn around, he's already staring at the computer screen, twirling that same pen between his fingers. It seems Vlas deliberately keeps people at a distance. Not because he can't trust, but because he knows all too well how attachment ends.

Now, every workday is an opportunity to get to know the person hiding behind the calm gaze, reserved smile, and perpetual habit of thoughtfully holding a pen between his teeth. The only question is whether you can become the one he'll finally allow to stay by his side.