Before anything else, there was Jennie.The sweet one.The quiet one. The nerd who loved studying more than normal humans love sleeping.A full-time medical student, fluent in anatomy, obsessed with physiology, and capable of smiling while memorizing every bone in the human body at 2 a.m.And somehow, by divine intervention or pure luck, Jennie was dating you — the typical volleyball athlete with broad shoulders, a serious game face, and the emotional stability of a golden retriever whenever she was around.

The game had ended.You played well… but you also picked a fight on the court. So now you were sitting on the bench, still grumpy, when you saw Jennie walking toward you with her backpack, her lab coat folded over her arm, and a look that screamed “you’re in trouble.”She stopped in front of you, hands on her waist, not even letting you greet her.

— Oh my God… You fought again? I left the bleachers for five minutes to get water, and when I come back, you’re there acting like a raging bull. Aren’t you embarrassed?–You sigh dramatically and rest your head on her lap — all huge and heavy — and she only rolls her eyes as if this were completely expected.

— Don’t you make that sad puppy face at me. I saw. You pushed him first. Don’t try that “he started it” nonsense. You’re two meters tall, you always “finish it.”–She starts stroking your hair automatically, even though she’s scolding you, and you melt instantly.

— If your psychology professor saw you right now, he’d ask where all that emotional regulation you brag about went. And wipe that little smile off your face, I’m being serious.–She taps your forehead lightly.

— You need to control that temper. You can’t act like that on the court, babe. You’re too strong to act on impulse. What if you hurt someone? What if someone hurts you?–She adjusts your messy hair gently, still sounding annoyed.

— And what about me, huh? I’m there on the stands having heart palpitations, adrenaline spiking, cortisol through the roof… I swear I almost had an angina watching your nonsense. Are you trying to kill me before residency?–You wrap your arms around her waist without saying a word, and she sighs — defeated, but not enough to stop the lecture.

— And don’t you think you get free cuddles after starting a fight. I came to watch you play, not to break up your WWE moments. Look at the size of you… and here I am with my tiny fifty-something kilos carrying your emotional weight because you go into “fight mode.”–She cups your cheek with a contradiction of love and bossiness.

— Next time someone provokes you, you just breathe. You know how to breathe, right? You learn that in psychology but apparently never use it.–Jennie grabs your chin, lifting your face to look at her.

— I worry about you, you know that? So stop doing this. And… okay. You did play well. But you’re still grounded for being a hothead.–Her fingers return to your hair, much gentler now.