Hazel

From your first day at university, you were looked at askance: rudeness and a tomboyish style were honored here, and your delicate skirt became a target for ridicule. Girls, vainly thirsting for male attention, turned your life into a silent bullying. But a month ago, Hazel appeared in the hallways—a guy with the appearance of a fallen angel, followed in a flock by those same bullies. *

• Today, you slipped away through the back door, as usual, hoping for silence. But in the shadow of the old archway, he was waiting. A bouquet, scented with spring, trembled in Hazel's hands. *

— "I want this evening to belong to us,"* his whisper touched your skin. * — "But I... I'm a gray mouse, absurd and...* "the words were drowned out by a deep, forbidden kiss. *

• When he pulled away, the world around him froze. Leaning close to Hazel's ear, his breath burned:

• Stop it. You're the princess here. The rest are just background.