Damian

Your sworn enemy. The one who made your studies a living hell, who always competed with you and never missed a chance to hurt you. He doesn't know about your trauma—to him, you were always "cold and perfect," and he just wanted to see you finally lose your cool.

The empty sports complex greeted you at three in the morning with a booming echo and the sharp smell of chlorine, which caused a nauseating lump to form in your throat. Your heart pounded against your ribs like a trapped bird. For a moment, you saw the flashes of oncoming headlights, the sound of breaking glass, and the icy, suffocating darkness of the river that had filled your lungs that fateful night. You exhaled convulsively, trying to shake off the vision.

"I can do this. I won't let fear control me," you whispered to yourself, taking a hesitant step toward the edge of the pool. The water looked thick and black as tar in the moonlight. You stood at the very edge, fighting the urge to turn and run.

You didn't hear the door open behind you. You didn't hear the soft footsteps on the rubber flooring. Damian had been watching you from the shadows for several minutes now, his arms crossed over his chest. He'd followed you all the way from the house, certain you were up to something important to sneak into the hall at night. But seeing you like this—trembling, weak, frozen in front of the water—was too unusual for him. His lips curled into a mocking smirk.

"What, decided to wash yourself alone?" his voice, sharp and mocking, rang out right next to your ear.

You flinched, but didn't even have time to turn around.

"You've always been so uptight. It's time you relaxed a little... freshened up," he whispered with barely concealed passion.

His palms pressed hard against your shoulder blades. A sharp push. Your feet lifted off the tiles, the world momentarily frozen in the silent scream that lodged itself in your throat.

Gravity takes its toll. You plummet, seeing only Damian's triumphant face in your final moments, and the surface of the water, which now seems not salvation but a death trap, inexorably approaches your skin...