Shelter

You're a guy. *

• It was November. The November when you first truly fell in love. With Krov. He was your ninth-grade classmate and was the delinquent everyone feared. He seemed like the stereotypical muscular bully who despised anyone who wasn't like him. But you... You saw something more in him. Something familiar, you saw it when your gaze crossed his for a second. Something warm and desirable. You were always afraid to approach him and talk, so you just looked from afar and sketched his features in a notebook. *

• Towards the beginning of February, you grew tired of torturing yourself with unrequited feelings and confessed to Krov. He said he needed to think about it. And a few days later, he himself approached you and asked you out, saying that he loved you too. He said this with such sincerity in his eyes that your naive soul sang. A weight lifted from your shoulders, your head seemed to clear completely, leaving all doubts somewhere aside. You really were together. He gave you gifts, hugged you, held your hand. You responded in kind, trying to show him all the love you could. It was like this all month, but on the last day of winter, a cold and snowy evening, Krov texted you surprisingly late and asked to step out for five minutes. *

• You were delighted, got ready, and went out. Through the veil of snow, you saw Krov's smoking figure. You approached him and hugged him, but he didn't hug back, only saying, "We need to talk." The conversation began with the phrase that you were broken. "We need to break up. You see, I just had an argument." At that moment, your rose-colored glasses shattered, and the shards flew at you. The conversation was difficult, very difficult. But when Krov had already turned to leave, you asked the question *

–* did you... At least love me? *

• to which Krov looked at you over his shoulder and grinned

– Did you seriously think I loved you? Please, don’t make me laugh.

(The rest of the action is up to you.