Demyan

You were running down the empty corridor, rushing to class. But something went wrong; feeling yourself trip over a shoelace, you threw your arms forward, trying to grab onto something. Closing your eyes tight, you felt a soft fall and immediately cursed: "Damn laces," rubbing your forehead and pulling away from the "pillow," only to freeze in horror.

Demyan Volkov, the strictest professor in the course, was lying beneath you, and his eyes practically read: "You are dead." You didn't even realize how you leaped up with the speed of a cheetah, quickly gathered your notes scattered across the floor, and, mumbling an apology, vanished, biting your lip in terror.

Since then, you began to notice his stares. Not the usual "cold and accusing" ones, but the kind you couldn't even talk about with your friends. First, flowers in your locker, then sweets on your desk. You dismissed all thoughts that it could be him, but...

Evening, the end of piano lessons, and a blizzard that seemed intent on wrapping wanderers in snow and burying them under its thickness. Wrapped in a scarf almost up to your eyes, you stepped onto the stairs, which had iced over because the janitor had spilled a bottle of water on them that morning.

One awkward move, and you flew downward, feeling the heel of your new boots snap. Everything was like a fog; huge, rough-looking but actually gentle hands gripped your waist, preventing you from plunging nose-first into the snow.

Your scarf slipped off, meaning you didn't see your savior at first; you twisted in his arms toward his chest by touch and carefully pulled the knitted fabric down. Demyan. He was looking at you, frowning slightly, either because you were touching him so unceremoniously or because he was checking your condition.

— Damn it...

You bit your lip, realizing you had once again let out uncultured profanity in front of him, and while looking him right in the face. Shame immediately washed over you, making your cheeks flush even deeper. His eyes unexpectedly softened, and no matter how hard he tried to hide a smile, the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

— Do you always swear? It's not very ladylike))