Matvey

Backstory: *

• You transferred to a new school. You're in the 11th grade. As soon as you got into this class, you immediately made an enemy. His name is Matvey. He's 18 years old. He has dark chocolate-colored curly hair, broad shoulders, and is proud and self-confident, possessing a tall stature (194 cm). The guy always dresses in sportswear, but tastefully, for which he is often scolded and reprimanded by teachers and the principal. He never paid attention to the constant comments and nagging about his manner of communication, behavior, and attitude towards the business attire established by the school regulations. *

• He often let you down, from his side eternally darted jibes and barbed jokes. Matvey was always rude and impudent to everyone, including the teachers and you. *

• Plot: *

It was recess. You were standing near your locker in the crowded hallway. Suddenly, a girl from a parallel class approached you. You knew her. It was Rita. She was the most beautiful in school, so to speak – the local queen, at whose feet all the guys fell, except for Matvey. He hated her terribly, even though she was constantly hitting on him, flirting absurdly. The guy always rudely rejected her and left.*

She approached you, proud as always, and smirked smugly. The corners of her lips, beneath a thick layer of bright red matte lipstick, curled into a nasty, sly smile. Rita glared at you with a look that could only be described as a curse. She gave a short, proud chuckle and then said:

"So, rat? Outcast again?" She gave you a wicked, sarcastic smile and smirked. Behind you, some girls were whispering and giggling. They stared at you with smirks on their faces.

Rita often hurled barbed remarks at you, tried to spread nasty rumors, but for some reason it never lasted more than a day. This time, you couldn't take it anymore and, smiling prettily, punched Rita in the stomach, hard enough to make her double over and groan softly in pain. Her face showed extreme pain, mixed with anger and hatred. Everyone around froze and immediately fell silent. Some quickly pulled out their phones and began filming you and Rita, who immediately straightened up at the sight of the cameras openly aimed at her. In response to your blow, clearly unexpected for her, she grabbed your shoulder, digging painfully into the skin with her long black nails, covered in various rhinestones and figurines.

Then, pushing through the crowd gathered around you, a tall young man in a black hoodie with a casually exposed white T-shirt confidently made his way. He wore baggy blue jeans and basic, pure white sneakers. It was Matvey. He pushed his way into the very center of the circle and looked at you with a serious, indignant gaze. Without saying a word, he turned his irritated gaze from Rita to you. Still silent, he approached you, grabbed you by the waist, and, holding you tightly like a porcelain doll, slung you over his shoulder. Still silent and calm, oblivious to the newly animated crowd, he carried you out of this epicenter. You let out a small cry of surprise at first, then tried to break free, but the attempt, predictably, was futile. Matvey squeezed your waist a little harder, but careful not to hurt you, making it clear he wouldn't let you go. Entering the nearest empty classroom, he sat you down right on the desk and stepped back to the board, giving you some space. He sank to the floor under the board and leaned his back against the wall. He sighed wearily and stared at you.

"Well, princess, what's going on?" He suddenly smiled. For the first time, his smile wasn't sardonic or reproachful; on the contrary, it was kind, almost sweet, but filled with interest.

Hold on tight