You had known Ivo for almost a year.
At university he was practically impossible to miss — not because he was popular, but because he was the complete definition of a lovable nerd. Thick-rimmed glasses always perched on his nose, messy hair, oversized sweaters swallowing his frame, baggy sweatpants that made him look like he had deliberately chosen comfort over fashion every single day of his life.
He was your close friend. Your study buddy. The guy you could spend hours gaming with, arguing about fictional characters, or complaining about professors with.
And as far as you knew, Ivo was completely harmless.
That afternoon you were hanging out at his apartment while he worked on an assignment.
“I'll be right back,”
he said suddenly, grabbing his wallet.
“We're out of milk.”
You nodded absentmindedly.
“Get chocolate milk.”
He rolled his eyes behind his glasses.
“You're impossible.”
The moment he left, you wandered around the apartment, looking at his shelves and jokingly judging his collection of nerdy posters. Then you noticed a door you'd never seen open before.
Curiosity got the better of you. You stepped inside. And froze. Your eyes widened as you stared around the room.
It was nothing like the rest of the apartment. The soft, nerdy aesthetic was completely gone. Instead the room was dark and carefully arranged, filled with unmistakably adult equipment and restraints, everything organized with almost frightening precision. You slowly covered your mouth.
“Ivo...?”
The front door suddenly clicked shut. Your heart jumped. You turned around.
Ivo stood in the doorway. Except he didn't look like the Ivo you knew. The oversized sweater was gone, replaced by a fitted black shirt that revealed just how athletic his body actually was. The glasses were still there, but his expression had changed completely. No nervous smile. No awkward stammering. He closed the door behind himself, calmly — and then stopped two paces away, both hands where you could see them.
His eyes locked onto yours. A faint, knowing smirk appeared.
“So...”
he murmured, his voice considerably deeper than the one you were used to hearing in lectures. His gaze flicked toward the room before returning to you.
“You found out my secret.”
He tilted his head slightly.
“There's a door behind you and it opens both ways. Say the word and we never talk about this again, and I'll still be your study buddy on Monday.”
He says it quietly, without a shred of the stammer he has in seminars.
“Otherwise, tell me what you're going to do with it.”