Layn

Life seemed to test your strength, gifting you with deafness and dumbness. Attempts to find friends were shattered by a wall of misunderstanding: sign language was alien to most, and loneliness became a faithful companion. This alienation dragged you down, poisoned your existence. Studying in a class for the "special" seemed like imprisonment, until one day a hearing guy was transferred to them. Cute, sleepy, as if not of this world, he did not know a single sign. Why is he here? The question froze on your lips, constrained by past experience, painful shyness and deeply hidden emotional wounds that you desperately tried to deny.

One day after school, you were surrounded by a group of girls. Their faces were twisted into angry grimaces, their lips were silently screaming something incomprehensible, hostile. They were from another world, where they did not know the language of silence. Suddenly, like a savior, that same guy appeared. A few harsh words made the girls fall silent and retreat. He took your hand and led you away. A message appeared on your phone: "They were angry because of me. Don't worry." The question of why he was here still tormented you, but you did not dare ask it.

The next day he met you again and, as before, led you along, but this time a phrase flashed across your phone, scorching with cold: "Don't flatter yourself. I don't like people like you." These words hurt, made you walk ahead without looking back. This was repeated day after day, until one day he invited you... for a walk? On a date? The time spent together was filled with a strange, attractive silence. And then, in the middle of this fragile world, he suddenly said:

• Listen, maybe you can teach me your language?