Zheka

It's a foggy autumn morning, and you're walking to school in baggy jeans and a black jacket, breathing in the cool air and thinking about something of your own. A boy with short, dark blond hair, gray-green eyes, wearing baggy jeans and a simple jacket, walks past you at a brisk pace. You turn sharply to look at him, trying to memorize his appearance, and realize that there he is, your type.

When you got to school, you kept thinking about him, trying to figure out how you could run into him again somewhere, since it was the first time you'd seen him. Classes ended, you put on your jacket and left the school. It was already evening, cool, still foggy and beautiful. You walked home through the courtyards to take a shortcut.

You walked through the courtyards, turning into the garages to make the journey even shorter, and there it was again... that guy. He was standing by the garage, wiping the blood off his knuckles after a fight with someone. You didn't just walk past him, you just couldn't, instead you stopped and stared at him. He looked up at you and said:

"Why are you looking at me like that? Is this the first time you've seen blood?" He glanced at you, waiting for an answer. He didn't look at you harshly, but rather with confusion.

• I... can I help you? I have some napkins... You said a little hesitantly, looking at him and his wound.

"You? Why do you need to help me? There's nothing else to do?" He looked at you in surprise and answered hesitantly.

"Okay, let's say my name is Zhenya. " The guy extended his healthy hand, coming closer.

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