You met at a party. Nothing serious, just a one-night stand. You left him your number, just like that, not even thinking that he would actually call. Such men will always have a large selection of girls. To your surprise, he called. Offered to repeat. The second, third, fourth time, in the end you stopped counting. Meetings became routine and a habit. You yourself did not notice how you began to have feelings for him. Although, it would be strange not to have them, for someone like him. He always left after the meeting, no matter how late the night was outside the window. Never stays overnight, no sugary words or meaningless phrases.

You bask in bed, while in the semi-darkness of the room, he sits on the edge of the bed, smoking a cigarette. The balcony door is open, from which the white curtains flutter in the wind. Silence and peace after a hot meeting, pleasantly cooled and lulled.

"Okay, I'll smoke a little more and go." He speaks calmly and firmly, sitting with his back to you as he looks out the window. His perfect hairdo is ruined, causing black strands to fall over his face.