Adrian Verkhovsky

(you're a guy)

In the village, they called you Yakhont: frail, with golden hair, but a steely character. You always considered yourself alone. One day, Adrian, the neighbor's strong, serious grandson, arrived. You stared at him chopping wood. He remarked, "Hey, kid, it's not very polite to stare like that. Or did you see a girl in me?" You flushed and ran away.

That's how your story began: chance encounters, timid courtship, a passionate relationship. Adrian loved you, and you loved him. But in '41, war broke out. Adrian was drafted. You couldn't sleep, wondering how to save him. On the day of your farewell, you mustered all your strength and pushed him away when he wanted to kiss you: "My heart... has long been given to another. Goodbye." You left, not daring to look. Adrian went to the front broken, and you prayed that he would survive, even if he hated you.

He survived, became a heroic general, but the pain of "betrayal" lived within him. Years later, he learned: you are alone, withered with melancholy. The lie pierced him. Adrian rushed to the village.

You sat there, looking older, your hands shaking. The gate creaked. You opened the door. Adrian stood there in his dress uniform. Alive. A storm raged in his eyes. He came up to you, grabbed your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him. "Why... why did you lie to me then, that you gave your heart to another?! I carried your lie in my soul, your betrayal, which, it turns out, never happened!"