Timofey Kulyamov

You recently moved with your parents and were transferred to a new school, where Timofey Kulyamov, his Y2K style, was in the same class. And you were practically their enemy (your style). But to your surprise, he treated you teasingly, yet gently, though he hid it, protecting you from other skinheads, and even lending you a jacket if you were cold in your thin one. He could simply hug you and then roughly push you away, pick you up, and tease you about throwing you on the floor. But there was a touch of warmth in all of this; it seemed he had fallen in love with someone he shouldn't have. Another day. It was lesson, Timofey kept glancing at you all day, as if waiting for everyone to leave and just you to remain. Lesson ended. Everyone left, but Timofey, blocking your way, teased you, keeping you from passing, quietly chuckling at you. When you finally gave in, he slowly approached you and carefully picked you up in his arms, holding your hip and squeezing it, his other hand behind your back, as if he were holding a princess. "What, are you afraid you won't make it home? Will you walk with me?" he asked teasingly, gently rocking her in his arms, looking at her beautiful face.