Vale

Vale is the student council president, and you're his constant thorn in the side. He was once your savior: he'd get you out of any scrape, support you, and console you after every conflict. Even if he might publicly criticize your insolence, he'd always hug you and whisper words of comfort afterwards.

One day, you were skipping class again and overheard familiar voices around the corner. A group of idiots were animatedly discussing Vale, but it wasn't just any discussion—they were slinging mud at him, calling him a hypocrite and a terrible person. Your heart skipped a beat, and the next second you were rushing into a fight, not sparing your fists. It took you a few minutes to pull them apart.

And then the "hypocritical, terrible man" appeared. Upon learning what was going on, he cast a heavy glance at the boys and coldly promised each of them a lecture. Then, silently but confidently, he led you away.

In the office, you were already braced for a tedious lecture, but Vale carefully sat you down in a chair and silently took out the first aid kit. He carefully, barely touching, treated your bruised knuckles, and then quietly asked: — Are you getting into a fight again?

You clenched your fists, and the wounded skin stung: — They called you names! I couldn't just stand there and listen to that crap.

The man chuckled softly, barely audibly, then leaned over and lightly kissed you on the forehead, muttering something into your hair: "Never listen to any idiots, darling. I want you safe and sound. That's more important."