It is unbearable. As soon as I close my eyes, I plunge into a sleep poisoned by sharp pain in my cheek, throbbing with every heartbeat. The inflammation spreads across my face, denying me rest. The pain isn't limited to my face: my scalp aches where Ivan dragged me by the hair, and the skin on my head throbs at the slightest movement. My whole body aches, as if I spent the night in a futile struggle.
When I open my eyes, the morning light seems harsh and unwelcoming. Approaching the mirror, I notice that my face — especially my cheek — is swollen and red, as if struck by lightning.
The girl, noticing my condition, quickly takes an ointment from the first-aid kit. Her touch is gentle yet confident, and there is a strange warmth in it — both unsettling and soothing. She carefully applies the ointment, and for a brief moment, I feel relief.
Then, as if apologizing for yesterday, she starts preparing breakfast. Her silent but expressive gaze compels me to start a conversation.
"Stop looking at me like that!" I almost plead. "Understand, you are not to blame for anything! It's not your fault!"
She stands in front of me, not taking her eyes off me. Her fingers clench into fists, ready to defend her stance.
"I won't listen to this," her voice sounds calm, but a hidden storm can be felt in it. "This is my responsibility, period."
I take a step forward, but she doesn't move. Her gaze is relentless, and this stubbornness in her, as always, amazes me.
"You are as stubborn as ever," I try to break through her resolve. "Why are you always like this?"
She doesn't answer, only presses her lips tighter and turns away. I realize that I won't be able to convince her right now.
The pause drags on. I notice her shoulders relax slightly, but she is still holding herself together. It is clear how the internal conflict is eating away at her from the inside. I can't help but notice how her pride prevents her from admitting that she doesn't always have to take on the full weight of responsibility.
"You are not to blame," I repeat softer, realizing that stubbornness won't lead to results. "None of this happened because of you, and you shouldn't bear it alone."
She remains silent, but her gaze changes, and a shadow of doubt appears on her face. I am incredibly ashamed. When I try to look into her eyes, it feels as if she sees all my weaknesses and fears.
Remembering yesterday evening, that dance, how her body moved in the darkness to the music, how her gaze pulled me in, I feel a wave of shame rising. In this moment, with a sober mind, I want to disappear. But how can I? She is right here, and these memories won't let go.
Her scent… It is so piercing that it feels like a part of me. A subtle, warm fragrance of her skin envelops everything around, filling the space with closeness. Her hair exudes a faint trail of vanilla with barely perceptible tart notes, like the breath of a summer wind. This intoxicating, sweet aroma penetrates deep into my consciousness, making my heart beat faster.
I remember how my hands slid over her body, feeling the silky softness of her skin, as if woven from light. Every curve of her figure seemed perfect — the line of her neck, delicate shoulders, the smooth transition to her waist. The warmth of her body transferred to me, filling me with peace and awakening an irresistible desire.
This feeling nests deep inside, at the very center of my being, not letting go and not allowing me to forget. It presses down, like invisible threads binding our souls. The desire to be close to her again, to hear her voice, to feel her touch — it is more than physical attraction. It is an elusive connection, as if nature itself is tearing through time and space to unite us. My mind searches in vain for an excuse, but I know: this defies logic.
One evening at the club — and I was already ready to throw myself into her arms. I understand that this is madness, but at that moment it seemed to me that I was ready to lose everything for the sake of that night, even if it meant losing my soul.
How will these two weeks end if I continue down this path? With a wedding? I laugh, picturing Katrin in a white dress, but far more chaotic images arise in my head. The girl is stunning, without a doubt, but how can I hold on to her? She is like a wild bird, too strong, too independent to live in a cage. Her spirit of freedom is too bright, her stubbornness is not something that can be confined within the bounds of family. I doubt she could stay home for more than a couple of days before rushing back into the world she creates for herself.
As Ivan used to say, they are not for relationships, but for something else… And that "something else" lures with its dangerous, almost magical power. I try to convince myself that her influence is exaggerated, but the more I think about it, the stronger I realize: she is changing my world. It is not just attraction or admiration. Her independence challenges my beliefs, destroying established boundaries.
And yet, what will happen if children appear? She won't live by someone else's rules, and I… I am afraid that I won't be able to live outside of them. I am used to order, to predictability, to the fact that tomorrow will be similar to today. But with her? Tomorrow will always be a surprise.
Maybe Ivan was right. Maybe she isn't made to become something more, someone's wife, a mother. But why then do I continue to think about her? Why can't I let go of this thought, as if spellbound?
Ivan.
Remembering him, I feel how everything inside me tightens. Irritation rolls in instantly, swallowing me whole, leaving no chance for calm.
How can one do that to another person? It doesn't matter who she is, what she looks like, or how she behaves — you have no right to act that way. Even if she had agreed, it wouldn't justify his action. But she said "no," and he kept going. He ignored her words, raised his hand to cause pain. For him, "no" is just a challenge, a reason for aggression. The girl tried to push him away, to stop him, but he didn't hear. He treated her as if her opinion and feelings were nothing.
And suddenly her face twisted in pain — he hit her. I couldn't believe it. In that moment, I felt rage, pain, and fear. Fear for her, for the fact that they might continue to destroy her.
Maybe he will back off for a while. But for how long? I won't be able to always be around, to protect her from this beast. We agreed on two weeks, but what will happen after that? Will everything really just go back to normal? No. She will go back to hanging out all night, and I will sit over my studies as if nothing happened. We will continue to live, but we won't be the same.
The fight.
When it happened, I didn't know what to expect from myself. I couldn't imagine raising my hand against another person, especially someone stronger and taller than me. But something inside snapped. It was a flash — everything around turned gray, and a storm of emotions raged in my head. I was scared, because I didn't understand what I was doing, but I couldn't stop. In that moment, it didn't matter that he was stronger. Only one thing mattered: I needed to regain control. And I hit him. It wasn't a plan or a decision — just adrenaline, anger, and confusion, merging in one impulse.
"Did you eat?" the girl pulls me out of my memories. "If so, get ready, we need to drop by your place."
"Why?" I squeeze out, not understanding why we need to go to my dorm again. Struggling to my feet from the chair, I sit down next to her.
She looks at me with a slight squint, as if I said something so obvious that it doesn't deserve an answer. Her green eyes remain impenetrable, and her face, despite its calm, seems to hide something more. She doesn't even move, as if waiting for me to figure it out on my own. I notice how her fingers unconsciously play with the edge of the pillow on the couch — her nervousness gives away more than she wants.
"Do you want to go to the party in these dirty clothes? Of course, you'll be swimming today, but still!"
I look at myself — indeed, I don't look my best. The t-shirt is stained with blood, the jeans are covered in dirt, it's like a reminder of our recent adventures.
"I get the part about changing clothes, but I don't understand the last part. What do you mean when you say that I will be swimming at your party?"
"This is the last warm week," Katrin's voice sounds more serious, as if she is sharing something important. "A cooling spell will start next week — first at night, then during the day."
"I already know the weather forecast," I grumble, still feeling the headache. "How is that connected to where we are going?"
"Tonight will be the last party by the sea. And it won't be a simple party, but a foam party!" her eyes sparkle with enthusiasm. I can't help but notice how her face lights up with joy and anticipation. This is the kind of energy that can infect anyone standing nearby.
"Wow," I reply with admiration, unable to hide a smile. Something in her words makes me feel that this party will be truly unusual.
"Maybe I really shouldn't change then?" I suggest jokingly, despite the concern about my clothes.
Katrin looks at me, never stopping smiling. Her eyes sparkle, reflecting the soft light of the evening sun, and the corners of her lips lift playfully, as if in response to some invisible but understood secret between us two. I feel how time slows down, and everything around dissolves, leaving only this moment and her gaze.
"We will change the t-shirt," she says, almost without thinking. "I will grab a towel for you. I already took one for myself."
She turns around and, after thinking for a moment, adds:
"We also need to take spare clothes, because I want to swim in the sea with you."
These last words make me surprised and feel something strange in my chest. Everything becomes more personal, and her confidence fills me with embarrassment and interest at the same time. I want to object, but I can't.
"Do you know how to swim?" she asks, quickly changing the subject.
"I do," getting up from my seat and feeling lightness despite the headache, I follow her. Her gaze is firm, and it seems she is already mentally at the beach, at the party by the sea.
"You've changed somehow," she suddenly notes, looking at me from head to toe, as if trying to see all the changes.
"And how so?" I answer in surprise, not fully understanding what she means. Her words make me think, but I try not to show it. A slight tension arises in my chest, and restless thoughts flicker in my head.
"You stopped trying to fight back," she continues. "And when I say something, you immediately agree, as if you don't care."
She narrows her eyes as if watching me, and in her gaze there is something mysterious and slightly mocking. I shake my head, a little lost from her bluntness, but I pull myself together anyway.
"I just want you to fulfill my wish. That's when I'll get my revenge!" a smile doesn't leave my face — even if I try to seem serious, emotions still break through to the outside. My gaze meets her eyes, and I feel a strange excitement flaring up in my chest.
"Ooh, I'm scared, I'm scared, I'm even shaking!" the girl laughs at my words.
When we get into the taxi, I notice how her eyes burn with impatience. It's funny, because I know how much she doesn't like walking. Although the distance to the dorm is short, she always prefers a taxi — fast, convenient, and without unnecessary hassle. I don't mind, because the time is reduced three times, and taxis in our town are inexpensive.
Katrin decides to wait for me by the dorm, and I quickly pack my things, deciding not to waste time on conversations. To my surprise, Dima isn't in the room, and I feel relief. I'm not ready to answer his questions about yesterday, and in general, I don't want to communicate with anyone right now. It's best to be alone — there is some kind of inner freedom in that.
I grab my bag and, feeling the tension leave, step outside. It's already dark outside, and the cool evening air embraces me, as if inviting me into the world of night adventures. In the distance, someone is laughing, but around it is strangely quiet, almost magical. I look around and finally see her — Katrin is standing, tilting her head slightly in anticipation, with a slight smile on her lips. I feel my pulse quicken, although I try to keep calm on my face.
"Ready for fun, Nerd?" she smiles mischievously, in her voice a mix of anticipation and mystery. I notice how her eyes shine, and I can't help but answer this challenge.
"With you, I am always ready, Rebel Girl," I answer, feeling a smile appear on my lips that doesn't want to leave.
I can't predict what awaits us, but I know one thing — it won't be boring with her. Something warm wakes up in my chest, and I am ready for this night journey with her, whatever she may be.