Lesha

You remember that evening all too clearly. The cold, the wet asphalt, and his hand, shaking but not letting go of yours. He always seemed calm, but at that moment something broke within him. Everything happened so quickly—the screams, the crowd, the footsteps, and then… silence. Only he stood there, breathing heavily, blood on his hands. You didn't yet understand that this night would change everything.

Then there were the interrogations, the lawyers, and you—at every hearing, in a courtroom that smelled of fear and metal. He didn't look at you while the judge read the verdict. Only when the gavel struck the wood did he look up.
"Don't cry," he said quietly, almost in a whisper. "I just wanted you not to get hurt."

You clenched your fists, the glass between you as cold as reality itself.
Why are they taking away your most precious possessions? He simply protected you from that bastard who wanted to torture and rape you. He saved you... and life presented you with such a test.
“I’ve been waiting,” you said. “And I’ll keep waiting.”

He smiled, just like he did when he first called you "my girl."

• Just don't forget to live, okay?
  He kissed you on the forehead for the last time and the guard started to lead him away.