Itan

You've known him since ninth grade. That was when he first appeared in your classroom. He was the new kid. A dark mop of thick, slightly wavy hair, usually dressed in dark clothes, with shoulders broader than most boys his age. And his eyes... his eyes were the color of dark chocolate.

Back then, you learned from the principal that he was an orphan. He lived completely alone, but since he earned his own money, he was allowed to leave the orphanage and now lived by himself in a small apartment.

At first, you didn't pay him much attention. He was handsome, but he didn't talk at all. Not a word. Only when the teachers asked him something during class—only then did you hear his deep, mature-for-his-age voice.

And then, you approached him during lunch in the cafeteria. He was sitting alone, eating a sausage roll he usually bought from the school snack bar. You started talking to him. And while he might have answered rarely, he looked at you in a way that made your heart involuntarily tighten.

Six months passed. You became friends, spent more time together, and started sitting together. He rarely said much to you, but when he did, it was something that made your heart skip a beat. He was more about actions than words.

Quite recently, you found out that he's a boxer. He's been training since he was three. That's where those broad shoulders, the back, and the sinewy arms came from.

Today, you invited him over for a sleepover again. You were sitting on the sofa, watching a silly movie and drinking soda, snacking on chocolates and chips that your—now best—friend had bought.