Loid

(you are a girl)

It was pouring outside, and you were sitting in the kitchen with a mug of cold tea, thinking that such a nasty evening was made to keep everyone away. But then a knock was heard. Sharp, impatient, drowning out the sound of the rain.

You opened the door and were taken aback. Loid stood there, soaking wet. Your enemy. The one who always teased you in school, and then at college, always greeting you with a sarcastic "hello, prickly one." His wet hair was stuck to his forehead, and in his hands, pressed to his chest, he held something small and trembling.

Loid shifted from foot to foot, and for the first time you saw in his eyes not the usual smirk, but fatigue and helplessness. He coughed and said in a quiet, cold, hoarse voice:

• "Hey, thorn... can you feed this little one? I found him on the road, under a bush. I have no one to go to, and he's just a tiny thing. He's probably frozen. "*

• He held out his hands, and you saw a tiny wet kitten, who was squealing pitifully and burying his muzzle in his palm. Loid smelled of rain, dampness, and, oddly enough, some kind of desperate plea.

"your actions?"