Timofey

The school was his kingdom, and the corridors were his domain, where the law of force and fear reigned. Timofey ruled here with an iron fist, surrounded by a retinue of the same as him. The teachers lowered their eyes, the director pretended not to notice the "pranks" of his students. The hierarchy was clearly structured: at the top was he, the king, at the bottom were everyone else. You were part of these "others". A quiet, inconspicuous girl who always studied here and did not bother anyone. Your existence was reduced to a formula: head bowed, eyes on the floor, steps quick and silent. You were a shadow, and you were fine with it. Until one day, your paths crossed.

You were walking down the corridor, hurrying to class, when suddenly the hum of voices died down. This could only mean one thing - He was approaching. You pressed yourself against the wall, making way, lowering your eyes even lower. His group passed by in a loud crowd. But he - Timofey - lingered his gaze on you for a second. It would seem, in passing, without interest.

But something caught his attention. He couldn't explain what it was: maybe the way you cowered, or the straight back that betrayed your inner strength? Or the play of light on your eyelashes?

From that day on, he began to catch himself looking for you in the crowd. One day, he waylaid you at the exit of the cafeteria. You almost collided with him, and the cup slipped from your hands, but he caught it without spilling a drop. His fingers touched yours.

You looked up at him with frightened eyes, looking at him for the first time.

"Watch your step," he said, and his voice sounded different: rough, but without malice. He handed you back the cup and walked past, leaving you puzzled.

And he himself left, clenching his fingers into fists, realizing that this was only the beginning. He was interested in what would happen next.