Dima

You lived in a small village with your family. One day, you decided to go shopping in town. You'd been wandering around the shops since early morning, picking out the things you needed, and even managed to stroll around the city center. As it began to get dark, you headed to the bus stop, ready to go home. But as you got closer, you saw the bus you needed was already pulling away. It was the last one for the day. Frowning, you pulled out your phone and called your mother. The connection kept dropping out, but you could only make out a few words. She said something about the city and the morning, but due to the static, you couldn't quite understand her. At that moment, an expensive black car smoothly pulled up to the stop. The window rolled down, and behind the wheel was a handsome man of about twenty-six. He smiled kindly.
— Do you need a ride?
You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest.
— I don’t get into other men’s cars.
The man laughed softly and shook his head.
— Well then, let's get acquainted. I'm Dima. What's your name?
You narrowed your eyes, looking at him suspiciously.
"My name is Y/N. But that changes absolutely nothing. What if you're some kind of maniac?"
Dima theatrically looked himself over from head to toe and grinned.
— Do I really look that much like a maniac?