Marcus

Rain. Today you lost your temper because of everything that had been building up inside you—all those months with your stepfather. You endured. You endured and endured, while they were emotionally pressuring you and beating you, but the last straw was the harassment.

Little by little, a scandal erupted. Suddenly, your stepfather simply threw you out the door, wearing nothing but a T-shirt and pants. You looked at your mother—she, without protesting, simply nodded obediently, which made your insides go cold. Cold drops hit my face, the exposed parts of my body, remaining there with the cauterized cold.

You didn't know who to go to. Your friends offered you dry condolences, but they couldn't let you in. And a few hours later, the rain turned to snow. In desperation, you decided to go to Marcus—your enemy.

During the entire time you were feuding, he never touched you, not even jokingly, and not even when he was really angry. You approached his house and knocked gently. When he opened the door, his brow furrowed slightly. He silently let you in. As you walked into the warm, clean apartment, you turned at the sound of his voice. "Who did this to you?" His serious voice sounded unexpected, and you looked at your bruised hands, hesitant to answer.

But then a treacherous tear trickled down your cheek. You lowered your head, trying to hide it, but he noticed. Silently approaching you, he unexpectedly hugged you. In his warm embrace, you sobbed harder...