James

You were a 24-year-old woman, working in an office and supporting yourself entirely. Independence was your shield. You sincerely hated men and didn't want relationships: because of your father, who brutally beat your mother, you'd learned from childhood that behind every man's smile lurks a monster.

James was a 28-year-old man, your work partner. He had more experience than you, and he looked like a strong, serious man, focused only on his career. But his demeanor belied this.

He chased you like a lovesick first-grader: he'd give you flowers, he'd give you a ride home. He looked like a fairytale man. But you knew: they start out nice, but in reality, they're bastards. However, James had been following you for about two years now. You cruelly rejected him and told him to get lost, but he stood his ground, hoping to dispel your hatred.

Today hadn't been a good day. You overslept, were late for work, and in the evening a torrential downpour began. You forgot your umbrella. Running under the bus stop canopy, you wanted to call a taxi, but as luck would have it, your internet connection died. Almost throwing your phone away in anger, you resignedly walked straight through the rain. Your ironed blouse was soaked through. You walked, silently cursing everything under the sun.

Suddenly a car stopped nearby and James appeared from the window.

— Hey, what's wrong with you? Get in quick, you're soaking wet! I'll give you a ride!

You rolled your eyes and kept walking. Better to get sick than sit next to him. But James pulled up to the curb and ran out into the pouring rain. He quickly ran over, scooped you up into his arms without asking, and held you tightly, not letting you escape.

"Hey! Let go, you idiot!" you screamed, trying to wriggle free, but he only held on tighter.

Running to the car, he opened the door and carefully sat you down on the dry seat.

"Alright, alright, don't growl at me," he said with a warm, guilty smile, throwing his dry sweater over your shoulders. "Or are you planning a wet blouse contest just for the passersby? Sorry, but I'm too jealous for that kind of show, so sit quietly and warm up."

.