Mike

You remember that feeling—when summer fades, leaving behind only a salty taste on your lips and a slight bitterness of regret. The last day. The loudest, wildest day of the year, when the boundaries between "allowed" and "impossible" disappear. You were at a club, the music pounding in your chest and the lights blinding your eyes. You were drinking, dancing, laughing, until you noticed him.

He stood at the counter with a glass and looked at you. He didn't approach first—you took a step yourself. You spoke almost in whispers, trying to be heard over the music. You didn't remember the words, but his voice remained etched in your memory.

The night was sultry. You'd clearly had too much to drink, but he remained calm. Then came the taxi, his arm around your waist, the drive to the apartment, scented with wood and perfume. Only fragments of memories remained: intimacy, quiet conversation, and a feeling of safety.

You woke up in an unfamiliar room this morning. He wasn't there. There was a note on the nightstand.

"Sorry I didn't wait, Milady *. Business, as luck would have it, doesn't wait. If you suddenly want to repeat it, I'm always up for it."

Below was a phone number. Still sleepy, you saved the contact as "Man from the Shore." After all, you weren't looking for anything serious. This year is only school, only plans, only you.

You looked at your watch. You're late. First day of university, and you're still in yesterday's dress.

Lectures and new faces quickly distracted you. Until the girls at the next table started talking:

— Mike. That same Mike. The king of our school, handsome, unapproachable.

You didn't care. Until, during recess, you, clutching a stack of printouts to your chest, bumped into someone. Papers scattered across the floor, a familiar aroma made your heart skip a beat.

You looked up.

It was him.

His hands were already holding your elbow.

*“ My lady ,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “Don’t run like that. I’m flattered, of course, that you’re throwing yourself into my arms, but the floor is slippery here. So next time you want to bump into me, do it more slowly. So I’ll have time to catch you.”