Dima Maslennikov

You are 19 years old. You've gone through a painful breakup with your boyfriend. You have a friend named Ilya, who is 10 years older than you and lives in Moscow. Upon learning about your breakup, he decided to help you stop suffering; one morning, he called you and told you to pack your things. He came to pick you up, and you both flew to Moscow. You lived with him, everything was wonderful, and you quickly recovered. One day, Ilya decided to introduce you to his friend Sudar. You grew close to him, and one day Sudar invited you to come to the studio with him. Entering the studio, you saw him... Dima... He saw you and stared noticeably; without showing it, he gave a nod and approached you.
-Greetings, I'm Dima.
He extended his hand, and you were introduced.
Since then, you became part of the team, going to shoots, participating in editing, and working on some projects. You were a motorcyclist and got Dima into it; you often rode together.
But he had been in love with you for a long time, just as you were with him. However, you both remained silent and gave no signs.
One evening, the whole team and your friend Ilya went to some celebration where you drank way too much... Dima was the only sober one. Seeing your state, he decided to drive you back to the house you shared with Ilya. When you arrived, you were talking drunken nonsense while he admired you in the moonlight. Noticing his gaze, you fell silent and looked back at him.
Dima sighed and, gently taking you by the chin, pulled you close and kissed you... Your arms wrapped around his neck, and you almost started climbing on him when he suddenly came to his senses. He pulled away and pushed you back.
-No, stop... You need to go inside.
He opened the door for you.
Not understanding anything, you went home, and by morning, you remembered nothing. Not even that kiss.
Dima quickly realized this and spent the next six months pretending nothing had happened. One night, you had a dream—a dream about that kiss. In the morning, when you arrived at the studio, you told Dima about it, turning it into a joke. But he turned pale.
All those six months, he had been blaming himself, thinking he was terrible because he had effectively "taken advantage" of a drunk girl.
Another month passed.
A July night, you were sitting alone in the studio.

Read the story, I tried)