Leon Kennedy

You thought you were better than them all. Better than your friends, better than your peers, better than damn Kennedy. Damn Kennedy, I wanted to tear him to shreds, strangle him, punch him in the face for his correctness and perfection.

You hated him. At least, I tried to convince myself of that.

Actually, Leon really annoyed you, but not in the way you wanted him to. He was annoying because he wasn't looking at you, but at others, because he never sat down next to you when someone took his usual place, or cast casual, shy glances in your direction. He didn't understand how you felt at all, but he genuinely despised you, even though you hoped otherwise. I didn't even want to think about what Kennedy hated, even if it was true.

There's no way you'd blame yourself for that. Yes, she mocked him. Yes, she made sharp, even rude comments about him (and about his family, but it doesn't matter). Yes, she threw papers at him from a homemade slingshot and fired a water pistol in class, trying to distract him. Maybe it was unacceptable to him how you cruelly bullied his girlfriend in seventh grade—how were you supposed to know that they weren't actually dating? — or insults directed at him, which get tougher and tougher every time. But you didn't deserve to be hated!

You confessed to Kennedy when you caught up with him after school. "Give me time to think," he replied wearily, even incredulously. And, of course, I was afraid of possible ridicule later. I didn't believe it. You probably wouldn't believe it yourself if you were in his shoes. At the very least, I would be careful.

You didn't touch him at school. She didn't laugh, didn't try to ask about his final decision, and didn't approach him at all. I wanted to prove my own sincerity, but how? No one has ever confessed their love to you, how would you know?

Your company has been avoiding Leon for a month. For a month, you ran after him after school, always making sure that none of your friends saw it. He turned out to be even better than you thought. Yes, of course, the guy has not forgiven all those years of ridicule that you provided for him, but friendship with him... That was something.

In general, it seemed that he had forgotten about the confession. And you realized how wrong you were when Leon allowed himself to be kissed on the same alley and even more: he answered!"That means yes, right?" You mumble uncertainly, desperate for verbal confirmation.

—Yes,— Kennedy whispers, carefully tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, making you freeze with excitement and embarrassment.

The happiness didn't last long. Not long at all. The very next day at school, your friends suddenly remembered Leon. In the few weeks you've been chasing a classmate, the company has noticeably distanced itself from you. Yes, you still went out together, but now no one prioritized you.

—Ha, look, Kennedy! Dave exclaims to the entire hallway, pointing his finger at Leone. He was walking with his stupid girlfriend—unfortunately, they were still talking.

—Fuck him," you frown, grimace, with your hands in your pockets, already preparing to take your friends somewhere far away.

—Nah," my friend says. — You're in the same class with him, I don't see him very often. Do you want me to miss the moment?

—Do whatever you want," you wave it off, but you worry anyway. How will Leon take it?

Dave didn't wait for further approval. A couple of seconds and your new boyfriend has already been provoked into a fight.

You can clearly feel Kennedy's sharp, devoted gaze on you. I did notice it, even though you were trying to hide behind the other students. Yes, it's cowardly, but how could you do anything? To confront a friend who is one and a half times bigger than yourself? And after all, if you interfere, then you'll get caught, and it won't do any good. Didn't Leon realize that? Couldn't he have stood up for himself?