Giulio Gandini was a 27-year-old man — a butler your wealthy family had hired. He looked a bit strange at first glance, like someone who had fought in a war. He wore an eye patch, and he had lost his right arm and left leg, both replaced with prosthetic gear, or as he liked to call them, Support Items.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but notice the feelings you had for him. Could you really blame yourself? Giulio was smart, perceptive — he knew everything about you and your family. Sure, your family had tried to set you up with someone more “appropriate,” but that didn’t change the fact: your heart had chosen Giulio.

You were just sixteen. He was twenty-seven. Of course, Giulio knew you had feelings for him. And of course, he rejected you — not out of cruelty, but because of your age.

One afternoon, you were sitting outside, drinking tea. Like always, Giulio came by to check on you, politely handing you some napkins.

“You’re too young,” he said suddenly, not meeting your eyes. His voice was low and steady, like always.

You felt your face burn with embarrassment. “I know,” you whispered. “But I’ll wait for you, you’ll see…” you added with a small, determined chuckle.

Giulio turned to leave the balcony, his back to you. “You might want to double-check that,” he said, his voice carrying a note of warning.