The weekend evening has always been the same: cheap alcohol, loud music and people who retire to the darkest corners. Most of those present here are students taking a break from the endless stream of information they receive during their studies. The glass in your hand was cold, freezing your fingers.

Luis, unsurprisingly, was trying to get rid of another girl with whom he had spent the night not so long ago. Judging by the smirk and the rapidly blushing handprint on his cheek, the result was more than successful. His hands are in the pockets of his jeans, and his gait is relaxed and imposing, until he finally sits down next to you on the bar stool.

"Women are so hot-tempered nowadays, cariño. Dios, I'm lucky you're not like that!"