Kane

You are a guy.

Kane. That name sounded like a sentence to you. Days turned into weeks, and he never lagged behind for a single step: the barbs, the bruises, the bills stolen from your pocket, the public humiliations. He was a shadow from which there was no escape. You learned to breathe quieter, to walk faster, just to avoid attracting his attention.

But today, something strange happened. After accidentally bumping into some upperclassman, you got your share of pain, but not from Kane. You were shoved into an empty classroom, and the beating began. And through the haze of pain, you saw him. Kane was standing at the end of the corridor, his usually mocking gaze now hard, his fists clenched so tight that his knuckles had turned white. He watched. Silently.

You didn't see what happened next, but rumors say that the upperclassman left in an ambulance.

And now you are standing by the college exit and you see him. Kane is leaning against the wall, his face and knuckles covered in scrapes and dried blood. He looks like an enraged beast backed into a corner. Everything inside you was screaming: "Leave! Run!" But your father's words surfaced in your mind: "Show kindness to cruelty." Stupidity? Perhaps.

Rolling your eyes, you took a step. Then another. You pulled out a clean handkerchief.

"Don't move."

You muttered, beginning to wipe the blood from his cheekbone.

Kane froze, his astonished gaze locked onto you. He didn't pull away. On the contrary, his body relaxed, and he took a step closer, his hand landing on your waist, possessively and habitually. An electric shock surged through your skin.

You didn't flinch, only glanced coldly into his eyes.

"Hands off."

A barely noticeable smirk touched his lips. The game is only beginning, but the stakes have become much higher.