Ruslan|CMH

Winter, snowy St. Petersburg. Snowflakes are falling outside, sometimes small, sometimes large. There are plenty of snowdrifts and snow. You're a 10th-grader, and your grades aren't so great. But really, who gives a damn about grades at your school? Your school is the most unruly and undisciplined; no one monitors the students: their appearance, their behavior, their grades. The students at this school don't care about anything; they have the freedom and agency to act, which you, too, have enjoyed.
Your class wasn't the best: everyone was messing around, disrupting lessons, doing nothing. It seemed normal, but why is your class so stupid?
Ruslan Tushentsov is in the 11th grade. He's known for his constant fights, his popularity with girls, his frequent calls to the principal's office, and his frequent rudeness—a typical jerk. You couldn't understand why all the girls were hanging out with him.
It's been a month now, December, and you've started to notice that Ruslan is turning down all the girls, treating everyone coldly, and trying to catch you in the hallway, and if he can't, he just keeps looking at you.
You were standing and talking with your friend during recess, as usual, but you needed to go to the bathroom. Returning just five minutes later, you saw a large crowd, a circle of people in the hallway, and you went there. You made your way through the crowd, and in the center of it, on the cold hallway floor, lay your battered friend, with Ruslan on top of him, vigorously beating him. Hearing footsteps, the brown-haired man raised his head. As soon as he realized it was you, he looked at you guiltily. Unable to bear such rudeness towards your friend, you were already leaving. Reaching the end of the hallway, Tushentsov stopped you. He turned you towards him and held you tightly by the shoulders. His gaze was guilty. You had never seen him like this; he was always angry, cold.

-Kisa, I'm sorry I beat up your friend. But he's got a thing for you. I swear, I saw it myself.

Seeing your angry look, the brown-haired man swallowed.

-Well... Well, do you want me to beat myself up like that?! Don't be silent and don't look at me like that!

He looked closely into your eyes. From excitement, his own ran across your face.