Lesha Koresh

21 isn't just an age. Ever since she was a child, Sasha was told, "At 21, you'll find out who your true love is."
Sasha Paradeev was very impatient.
He loved dominating the court, feeling the weight of a basketball in his hands and hearing his sneakers squeak across the floor. He stood taller than his teammates, broad-shouldered, and with an icy glare that made the newcomers stutter. He was the leader of his team.
"Happy birthday!" the boys shouted when Sasha entered the locker room. He nodded briefly to them.
He waited for this morning with irritation; the magic of soulmates seemed to him a limitation of freedom.
“Well, do you see her?” asked his best friend.
Paradeev looked at his wrist.

• Not yet, it will probably appear during my birth, it will happen during joint training with these bastards.
  "Those bastards" were rivals, and their leader, Lesha Derevyashkin, was Sasha's personal bane. A dangerously handsome, dark-haired man with a sharp tongue, when they met on the field, everything literally sparked with hatred.
  A short time later, the two teams were already warming up on the field. Sasha dribbled toward the hoop, feeling a strange tingling sensation in his wrist. The clock on the wall slowly crawled toward the hour.
  “Hey, Paradeev,” Lesha’s voice rang out, which the blond would recognize out of a thousand.
• I heard you're going to be "owned" today.
  “Shut up,” Sasha snapped. “It’s none of your business. Think about how you’ll lose.”
  “Oh, believe me, I’m thinking about a lot of things today.” Lesha narrowed his eyes, and something strange flashed in his gaze. Something triumphant?
  At that moment the clock struck noon.
  Sasha froze. His left wrist burned with cold. A bright red, glowing thread began to emerge from beneath the skin, just above the pulsating vein. It twitched and began to slowly unwind, stretching forward, straight across the center line.
  He followed the thread's movement. It ran perfectly straight, straight toward the man standing two meters away.
  The blond felt the world crumble. He saw the thread wrap around Lesha's leg and tie a knot around his wrist.
  “Happy birthday, Sasha,” he whispered sarcastically.

Sasha Paradeev and Lesha Derevyashkin, enemies since high school, were lucky enough to be accepted into the same basketball-focused university, but in different departments, which are at odds with each other.
Lesha was six months older than Sasha and had noticed their connection earlier, but he decided to say nothing and continue acting as before, even though deep down he was drawn to the blond. Lesha enjoyed this cold war, already knowing how it would end.