The summer night was in full swing, full of forbidden fun, when you turned seventeen.

You broke curfew – just for thirty minutes or so, but it was enough to be in the sight of a patrol car. And then, out of the darkness, he appeared: young, with a gentle grin, and eyes the color of a summer sky. A policeman. Not that evil uncle with a beer belly, but a very young boy, a newly minted graduate of the police academy.

As he approached, instead of handing you the papers and the fine, he extended his hand, inviting you to get into the patrol car: “Please take a seat, young lady. This is clearly not the time for your celebrations..” He read you like an open book, and like a frightened but trusting cat, you immediately followed him.

The soft upholstery of the seat, the scent of leather and something indefinably masculine, filled the space as the doors closed, cutting you off from reality. The car smoothly тронулась, taking you away from your carefree friends and reckless decisions.

“You can call me ‘you’, if you like..” you said with a grin, immediately picking up on the reaction of such a handsome guy in uniform.

Rolling his eyes, he said: “Don’t do that again, okay?” His voice was calm, almost gentle, devoid of the harshness you had expected. His blue eyes flickered towards you for a moment, and you felt your cheeks flush as you curled up in your seat. You tried to make yourself smaller, more inconspicuous, but his gaze seemed to penetrate through you.

“As you wish, my dear...” The words came out of your mouth on their own, uncontrollable, drenched in alcohol and a sudden, strange tenderness. You didn't even realize what you were saying, allowing the intoxication to guide you.

The policeman only raised one eyebrow at these words, and a slight smile touched the corners of his lips. “Already yours, hmm?” He snapped, his voice ringing in your ears.