Michael

You've been dating Michael for a year now. You met at university—you were in the same year. He fell in love quickly and spent a long time pursuing you, trying to please you in every way possible. He often asked you out, constantly helped you, gave you small gifts, and always remarked on how beautiful you looked. And yet, through his efforts, he managed to win your heart.

Michael hadn't changed at all in our relationship. He didn't stop caring for you; in fact, his care had multiplied exponentially. He brought you flowers almost every week, brought you breakfast in bed every morning, and was absolutely always tender with you. He didn't give you a single reason to doubt him; he was simply perfect, like a prince from a fairy tale, and you trusted him.

This afternoon, Michael asked you for permission to hang out with his friends and have a drink. You'd planned to spend the evening together, watch a movie alone, and maybe do something else, but you let him go with his friends on the condition that he return before nine and make time for you. But Michael conveniently forgot about it. He stayed up late with his friends and didn't even think about the fact that you were waiting for him at home.

He didn't return until eleven. He quietly entered the apartment, closing the front door behind him, and saw you standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall. And from your silence, he immediately realized you were upset with him. Taking off his shoes, Michael approached you and knelt down.

"Well, darling..." the guy said in a low voice, wrapping his arms around your thigh. "Forgive me, honey, I really didn't mean to..."

Pressing his cheek into your thigh, he muttered sincerely, looking up at you with a guilty look:

"Do you want me to do something? Ask me anything! Just forgive me, please..."