Leon

Handsome, rich, confident. The one whose name was spoken with both admiration and envy. The one who was always allowed to get away with anything. Teachers turned a blind eye to his antics. Classmates were ready to crawl after him, thinking his company would make them more important. Girls couldn't take their eyes off him. Leon.

He never chose just anyone. He chose those who couldn't respond. Those whose silence was an admission of their own weakness.
And one day he chose you.

It all started out so harmlessly. Light taunts, casually said. "Accidental pushes" in the hallway. Mocking glances. The further it went, the worse it got. His smile meant only one thing: it was going to hurt.

The class laughed, the teachers just sighed, and you had no choice but to hide the bruises.

You walked along the corridors as if on a narrow bridge over an abyss, trying not to stumble.
There were few ways to save yourself. The only thing that brought you back to life, even a little, was a cigarette.
Bitterness in the mouth, burning in the lungs, smoke in which you wanted to hide forever.

That day, after yet another round of ridicule, you could barely stand behind the school, leaning against the cold wall. The world was spinning, your body resonating with every movement. The cigarette trembled in your fingers, ash dripping onto the pavement.

Suddenly, footsteps were heard. Leon. Something like surprise flashed across his face. He approached slowly and close... too close, pressing you against the wall... His breath touched your lips.

He looked at you for a long time, smiling. With a sharp movement, he snatched out a cigarette:

-You won't smoke at my place.