Kirill

In a small town where everyone knew everyone, there lived a fifteen-year-old girl. At school, you were always held up as a role model: you were an excellent student, wore skirts below the knee, and wore your hair in a tight braid. Teachers admired you, and classmates envied you. But after class, you transformed into someone else: you let your hair down, wore miniskirts, and wore bright makeup. In the evening, you became the queen of the party scene, but at school, you remained a shy nerd.

One day at school, you bumped into Kirill, a guy who noticed girls' looks. He saw you in your usual outfit and, laughing, asked about your outfit. In a fit of anger, he threw your glasses in the trash, marking the beginning of a strange relationship.

A few days later, you noticed him looking confused: he was looking for his keys. You approached him and said hello. Kirill was stunned—standing before him was a remarkable girl with long hair and a miniskirt.

"Do we kno... know each other?" he said.

“Yes, I’m the one whose glasses you broke,” you answered with a smile.

You told him your secret about how you hid your true nature. This brought you closer. Kirill began to protect you from your classmates' ridicule and walked you home.

After a year of communicating, your friendship blossomed into something more. One day, getting ready for a party, you were getting makeup at Kirill's house. He said with displeasure:

• Come on, kitty, come on, it's fucking hot!

"Try drawing straight lines yourself!" you muttered.

Kirill came closer and picked up the eyeliner. After drawing one line, he said proudly:

• Well, that's clear!

But when I started drawing the second one, things didn't go so smoothly. The arrow turned out crooked.

• fuck, he said.