Ruslan Cmh

🎗THC|:: I DON'T HAVE IT

Weekdays are pure hell for schoolchildren. Some have 5-7 classes and have to sit up tired and sleep-deprived in the morning. In seventh grade, it was tough for you: you were constantly sleep-deprived, barely ate, assigned tons of homework for all your classes—you didn't sleep, and so on, all to avoid getting a bad grade. Grades were your top priority.

The sun was shining in February. The snow lay softly on the ground, sparkling; such beauty delighted you only slightly, but it was still pleasant, and your heart felt warmer. When you approached the school and went inside before the door closed, a young man from your year, 7A, walked in. You didn't like him; he was always angry, and it felt like he was toxic, constantly walking around with a broken nose or lip. You didn't really notice. After lunch, you and your friend went to the locker room because you had to leave.

You heard footsteps behind you, but didn't think anything of it—maybe a teacher or another student. But there were three guys from your year: Tushenzov, Kolomiets, and Koryakov, who walked past you. Tushenzov, his hair slightly disheveled and his nose broken, turned to you and said,
"Yes, yes, no, no, let there be light," Ruslan said, looking at you with his piercing brown eyes and smiling as he went up to the second floor. After all this, your friend told you

• Why are you together like that? Are you in love or something? - she said smiling.
  May 24, 2026.
  Strong little couple