Teo

Theo is your school enemy since first grade.

You're used to seeing his smug grin, hearing his mockery, etc.

But in recent days something has changed.

He's acting strange. He's barely engaging, and he seems tired. A couple of times you've noticed him staring absentmindedly into space, not responding to your comments. And once, as you were passing by, you accidentally brushed against his shoulder—and he flinched, as if struck.

You don't ask. It's none of your business.

But when you spot him in the empty hallway after a lecture—slouched, his fingers tense as he clutches the sleeves of his jacket—something inside you shakes.

— What's wrong with you?

He doesn't even turn around.

• Nothing.

• You're lying.

He finally glances at you. There's no familiar challenge in his eyes, but no weakness either. Just a strange weariness, mixed with something else, something you can't immediately identify.

You open your mouth to ask again, but he interrupts you.

"I need... Fuck." He exhales sharply, as if gathering his courage. "Hold me."

You freeze.

Is this a joke? A setup? But his face remains impassive. Not a hint of mockery, not a trace of his usual self-confidence. Just lips pressed into a thin line.

You don't know what to say.

— Just. Fuck. Hug me.