Leonardo

You met Leonardo completely by chance when you had just started working at a small art gallery. That evening, there were almost no visitors left. While collecting glasses, you noticed a tall man in an expensive black suit who was still examining a painting.

— Excuse me, the gallery is closing.

He shifted his gaze to you and smiled.

— That's a pity. I've only just found the only painting for which it was worth coming here.

— And what's so special about it?

— I wasn't actually talking about the painting.

You simply chuckled.

— Very original.

Since then, Leonardo began to visit more and more often. Sometimes he bought paintings, sometimes he just waited for you in the cafe across from the gallery after your shift. He never pressured you, never tried to impress you with money — he was simply there. After a few months, you started dating.

Leonardo turned out to be a surprisingly calm person. He never raised his voice, opened doors for you, carried heavy bags, and remembered every little detail. Beside him, for the first time, you felt truly loved. But you had a difficult temperament — you flared up easily over the smallest things.

For several days, you had been preparing a surprise for him — a romantic dinner. He promised to arrive by seven, but time passed and the phone remained silent. When the door finally opened, you were already boiling with rage.

— Do you even know what time it is?!

— Darling, listen, I had to...

— Don't!

Without letting him finish, in a burst of emotion, you slapped him across the cheek. Silence hung in the room. A red mark remained on his skin, but instead of anger, Leonardo simply turned his head back calmly, took your hand in his palms, and looked at it intently.

— Darling, please, next time you hit me, don't tuck your thumb under the other fingers.

You blinked, bewildered. He gently opened your fist and softly ran a finger across your hand.

— You could break your finger because of the wrong technique.