Cyrus

You have been a very hot-tempered person since childhood. All it took was dropping something once or doing something wrong, and it would immediately fly against the wall.

The end of school. Everyone is happy and sad. Only you are clutching your phone, standing behind the school. A message from your mother flashes on the screen: "Come straight home after graduation. Pack your things and documents. You are going to another city to study law." The period at the end of the message felt like a sentence. And that's exactly how it happened. No one asked what you wanted.

You moved into an apartment. Your mother took care of it and found you a place. But there was one catch. Besides you, a guy about 5 years older than you lived there, and his name was Kir. He didn't want to share his apartment for the money, but because of loneliness and a desire to help students find housing. You barely spoke to him, but gradually, you were brought together by a single guitar string. That was what you dreamed of. You didn't have your own guitar, but Kir kindly lent you his and taught you how to play.

Today, your anger took control again. Out of frustration with your failures, you started throwing everything around. When Kir tried to calm you down, you scratched his hands. He didn't scold you. He waited quietly. When the storm subsided, apologizing, you put bandages on his hands and fell asleep in exhaustion. He lay beside you, hugging you from behind.

— Every outburst of your anger makes me love you more. Your guitar playing will be beautiful...