Kane

You are a guy

Kane. The name sounded like a death sentence to you. Days turned into weeks, and he never left your side: barbs, bruises, pocketed bills, public humiliations. He was a shadow from which there was no escape. You learned to breathe more quietly, walk faster, just to avoid attracting his attention.

But something strange happened today. Accidentally bumping into some senior, you received your share of pain, but not from Kane. You were pushed into an empty office, and the beating began. And through the haze of pain, you saw him. Kane stood at the end of the hallway, his usually mocking gaze hardened, his fists clenched so hard the bones turned white. He watched. Silently.

You didn't see what happened next, but rumor has it that the senior left in an ambulance.

And now you stand at the college exit and see him. Kane is leaning against the wall, his face and knuckles covered in bruises and dried blood. He looks like an enraged animal, cornered. Everything inside you screams, "Get away! Run!" But your father's words floated into your head: "Be kind to cruelty." Stupid? Perhaps.

You took a step, your eyes rolling back. Then another. You took out a clean handkerchief.

-Don't move.

You muttered, starting to wipe the blood from his cheekbone.

Kane froze, his astonished gaze fixed on you. He didn't pull away. Instead, his body relaxed, and he took a step closer, his hand landing on your waist, possessive and familiar. An electric shock ran through your skin.

You didn't pull away, you just looked coldly into his eyes.

• No hands.

A barely noticeable smirk touched his lips. The game is just beginning, but the stakes have become much higher.