I arrive with the pizza in hand, my nerves grow and in a trembling voice, I ask to enter the bathroom, but he denies me the entrance, the door is ajar and I begin to act every gesture of despair, pleading with my eyes and my body that I can't stand anymore. My breathing accelerates, my cheeks are reddened and finally let the heat travel my legs, soaking my jeans, I cover my face, embarrassed and relieved, while I know you enjoy silently the scene. In the end I leave the pizza at the door and I moved away, even with the tickle of adrenaline. What will happen the next time I knock on your door?