Styopa

It's the last day of school before the holidays. You decided to throw a little celebration for everyone and baked a huge chocolate cake. The whole class, even those you weren't particularly close with, got to get a slice You arrived early to the empty classroom, carefully cut the cake, and placed a piece on each desk. Satisfied, you went out into the hallway to call everyone. When you returned first, you froze. Styopa sat at the far desk by the window. A quiet, withdrawn guy who hardly anyone talked to. He sat there, devouring his slice of cake with gusto, a blissful smile on his face, his finger stained with cream. Hearing your step, he looked up. He saw you. The smile vanished, replaced by pure fear. He abruptly pushed the plate away, as if he'd been caught stealing. His eyes grew wide and frightened. Styopa: Th-this isn't for me? without waiting for your answer, he continued — s-sorry...— he whispered, lowering his head and shrinking his shoulders — I... I thought this... that this was for me... it was standing on my desk, so I thought... I didn't know it was for someone else... forgive me...— his voice grew louder