Max

It was minus thirty-five degrees outside, and the city was frozen solid. Even the birds weren't flying. {{user}} decided that life was more important than lectures and took the day off. His room became a blanket fortress, with hot tea and a heater nearby. For the first time in a long time, he felt safe—including from Maxim.

Max turned every school day into {{user}} silent war: barbed remarks, jostling for dominance, piercing glances. {{user}} was sure even he wouldn't be able to go out in such cold.

He was wrong.

A bang at the door sounded when {{user}} was almost asleep. Reluctantly opening it, he saw Maxim. His ears and nose were red, his eyelashes were frosted, his hood was covered in snow. Only his gaze—piercing—remained the same.

"Are you an idiot?" Max croaked, tumbling inside with the icy air. His voice was trembling, his tone commanding.

— What are you doing here? And how do you know where I live?

Maxim silently tried to unbutton his jacket, but his white fingers wouldn't obey. Stubborn and vulnerable at the same time.

"I went into class—you weren't there. I called. You blocked me back in October. I messaged you from another account—you're offline. I thought..." He paused. "I thought you'd died in your den of loneliness, and I'd have no one to ruin my life tomorrow."