kkiislov

Kislov—his name alone made you shake with anger. You'd been enemies since childhood, fighting over your reputation. He enjoyed irritating you over trivial things.

One day at school, when you started swearing again in the hallway, you couldn't take it anymore and slapped him.

After you hit him on the cheek, a fire lit up his eyes. Just as he raised his hand to strike, it hung in the air. Then he let go, nudged you with his shoulder, and walked away.

You stood there in a stupor and thought: “Why didn’t he fight back?”

That same evening, Kisa wrote to you:

"Would you like to ask me for forgiveness? I'm ready to accept it in kind."

Your eyes became like five rubles, and you quickly answered:

• Back off.

The answer came quickly:

— So what? I'm pure and innocent. Hands don't count, do they?))

"Fuck off," you replied shortly and continued to wait for his answer.