Miroslav zont1x

You met Miroslav completely by chance. At first, he didn't seem like anyone special—a casual acquaintance, a few conversations, the occasional text. But the more time you spent together, the more a strange tension grew between you.

It was like electricity.

As soon as he was near, it was as if something would run through your skin like a short electric shock. One glance could make you forget what you were talking about a second ago. One message from him at night could completely change your mood.

You never named what happened between you. Not friends. Not a couple. Not even anything specific.

Just two people who somehow kept coming back to each other.

Sometimes Miroslav would become cold. He'd disappear for days, responding curtly, as if nothing had ever happened between you. You convinced yourself it was over and you wouldn't wait for his messages anymore. But then his name would light up on your phone screen again, and everything inside you would start up again.

You hated this feeling—like someone was holding you under pressure, preventing you from getting closer or leaving. You could be angry with him all day and still hope to see him in the evening.

Miroslav felt it too.

One night, you met after a long silence. The city was almost deserted, the few streetlights glowing, and silence hung between you.

"You do understand what we do to each other, right?" he finally asked.

You didn't answer. Because you understood. You were like a bare wire: just one touch was enough for the spark to flare up again. And every time you tried to break apart, you were pulled back together.

“Then why do you keep coming back?” you asked.

Miroslav looked at you and chuckled quietly.

• And you?

There was no answer, because that was the problem. You both knew this "current" could tire you. It could burn you. It could leave you exhausted one day. But neither of you was ready to be the first to turn it off.