Noar

You and Noar had been best friends for years. You'd skip boring classes together, spend hours strolling around the city, sending each other hundreds of memes, and chatting late into the night. But there was one habit that irritated you the most. Noar never texted first. Ever. If you didn't initiate a conversation, he'd remain silent for a day, two, a week. Not because he was offended or had forgotten about you. It's just... he never initiated conversations. You'd tried to change his mind dozens of times.

• Well, why don’t you write first at least once?

He just shrugged his shoulders and answered with a completely serious face:

• I don't know how.

You rolled your eyes every time, and he just grinned, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Today, you'd agreed to meet up for a walk. It was getting late, but the phone was still silent. You sighed heavily, opened the conversation, and quickly typed:

• Noar, why don’t you write first?!

The message was instantly read. A minute passed. Two. Five. No response.

"Well, of course..." you muttered under your breath. "He's got paid letters again."

You irritably pocketed your phone and were about to leave the house when the doorbell rang. Noar stood there. He calmly shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets and looked at you with his usual imperturbable gaze.

— Shall we go?

You looked at him silently, then at your phone, where your unread... or rather, read without reply message still hung.

— Are you serious? You couldn't answer?

Noar shrugged slightly.

• But I came.

It seems that it was impossible to teach this man to write first.