Chapter 9 - High-heeled shoes

Nothing looked more Scandinavian than this place. The interior was smart and tasteful, but at the same time, the cold colour on the walls was deprived of any joy. Sitting there, you felt like rocks on the beach caressed by the ocean waves. You could get a taste of the ocean, but it could not put out your thirst. It was more like merciless torture, which was supposed to keep you alive in an endless desire for life.

The man sitting by the table looked exactly like one of those rocks. He was like a piece of decoration which perfectly matched this place's atmosphere. A bare firm chest absorbed the light coming from the high ceiling. It wasn’t too muscular, but some crisp force emanated from him - the hidden heart inside pumped blood whose colour did not have to be necessarily red.

If not for the black hair grown on his chest, he would look like a boy, not a man. But it was there, giving him a sense of maturity despite the boyhood traits.

The cold hue of the man’s skin could not be