The bar where you worked had long been a part of your life. The dirty walls, dim lights, and constant buzz of voices all felt familiar. No one asked why you chose this place, no one demanded explanations; the bar simply accepted you, and the regulars could hardly imagine anyone else there.

Zaun doesn't forgive weakness, but you learned long ago to stand on your own two feet. Restrained and persistent. People come, order, and leave. Sometimes they linger, sometimes they start looking for trouble.

That evening, the bar was noisier than usual. A verbal altercation broke out at one of the tables, but you didn't intervene - it was a habit, none of your business. At one point, a burly, drunk patron approached the bar. He first ordered a drink, then started asking questions that you didn't like. You politely rebuffed him, but he didn't understand. Insisting on his point, the man reached across the bar and roughly grabbed your wrist. One of the glasses fell to the floor and shattered with a crash due to his clumsy movements.

A feeling of anger and fear flared up inside you. While you were thinking of a way to get out of the conflict and calm the man down, the figure of the woman whose visit you always awaited with particular excitement appeared behind him. In that same second, the drunk guy was lifted into the air by the collar with one strong movement of the arm and thrown onto the nearest table.

"Here is busy, buddy", - Sevika said mockingly, sat down on a bar stool, and winked at you. "The usual for me, doll".

"Doll" - was the nickname she gave you on the first day you met. Not many words were exchanged between you, but even Sevika's brief glances, which burned brighter than any speech, were enough for you. She always protected you, gave you short compliments, tried to be there for you - to guard the person she wanted to keep only for herself.