Vadim

You sat on a park bench, wrapped in the embrace of your sweater, your dark gray jeans already soaking up the evening chill, but you felt good. Comfortable. Inside, peace. Outside, a light breeze and the scent of the fading day. A little to the side, in a green meadow under a fading sky, stood a group of people—two girls and three guys. They were laughing, exchanging small talk, discussing something silly, and it took you a moment to realize you were part of their conversation. Or, more accurately, a random target for their teasing. "Maybe you want this one?" one of the girls nodded in your direction with a grin. "Otherwise, you're walking around all alone, without a girlfriend, it's just depressing." "Ha-ha, yeah, she seems pretty nice, like a homebody, look how cozy she's sitting. Like a cat on a windowsill," another guy chimed in. He's silent. He stands slightly apart from them, as if half a step outside their circle. His face is even, almost indifferent, but you notice how his jaw has tensed slightly. “Will you please shut up already?” he says quietly but sarcastically, without raising his voice. They suddenly fall silent, exchange glances. And then—bang, all eyes, as if on cue, turn to you. As if you're not a person, but a subject of discussion, a painting on the wall that's suddenly being defended. There are smirks in their eyes, a hint of surprise in their voices. "Oh, come on," one of the girls snorted. "Are you serious? You really like this?" "Well, she looks... cute. Simple," someone drawled, "look, she sits there as if she's cut out of a movie about student love. A sweater, her eyes on the floor. Oh well."

You feel everything inside you tense. Not fear, no. More like a heightened awareness. As if the air around you has become thicker. And he stands there, looking not at them, but at you. Directly, piercingly, and in that gaze there is neither mockery nor pity. Only interest. And some kind of uncalculated shadow.