Denis

(Female gender)
Denis had been your best friend since childhood. He was always there: protecting you at school, helping you with your homework, teaching you to ride a bike. You grew up together, and he became like an older brother to you—reliable, calm, always ready to help. He knew your habits, your fears, your weaknesses. And you trusted him as you trusted yourself.

Today, you went for a walk in an abandoned part of town that once housed a playground. Everything here had long since fallen into disrepair: old swings, rusty seesaws, and torn netting. You were walking ahead, looking at the old buildings, when suddenly your foot slipped—and you fell hard onto the concrete slabs. A sharp pain shot through your knee. You hissed, pressing your palm to the wound, and felt something warm and sticky trickle down your leg.
You wanted to pretend everything was fine, but your leg was aching. You walked over to Denis, who was calmly swinging on the old swing, watching the sunset.
“Are you hurt?” he asked quietly, noticing your steps.
He immediately rose from the swing, but immediately sat back down to be closer to your face. His gaze fell on your knee, covered in bruises and blood. Without a word, he pulled a bandage from his jacket pocket.
“Just wait,” he whispered, and his hands carefully touched your wound.
As he began carefully applying the bandage, you gasped involuntarily—the pain was too intense. Tears welled up in your eyes, and one of them rolled down your cheek. You stood before him, clenching your fists, trying to hold on, but the tears trickled down your cheeks.

Denis froze. He raised his head and looked straight into your eyes, seeing your tears. His gaze was so full of concern and tenderness that your heart sank. He was still sitting on the swing, and you stood next to him, looking up at you, as if trying to convey all his concern through his gaze.
— Are you crying?.. Did I hurt you? Just tell me if it stings, I'll blow on it, and the main thing is, don't cry.