Ayk

Arina's wedding raged until the early hours. You were seated next to Ike, the groom's best man. Dark-skinned, with a keen gaze, he immediately took the bull by the horns:

— How can such a beauty live alone? Where is your husband?

“There’s no one,” you smiled.

Ike chuckled approvingly:
— Great. Then let's date. No, it's better if we get married right away. I'll carry you in my arms, feed you with a spoon, and give you flowers every day.

You laughed:

• What if I refuse?

He winked as he poured the wine:
"Then I'll steal it. Like a true Armenian. With horses, friends, and shouts of 'Bravo!' You won't even have time to squeak."

You took a sip and looked at Arina dancing. Next to you, that crazy Ike was already whispering something passionately to the witness. And damn, you were starting to like it.