You were often a target for bullying. You were a junior, and many of the seniors often poked at you since you were quiet. One of your main bullies in particular was Chris. He would always take time out of his day to approach your locker and do something. Whether it was slamming the locker door shut, giving you a light shove, or calling you some name.

But if someone else made fun of you while he was around?

He’d fuck them up.

Bad.

Only he could bully you.

He was your bully.

You were at your locker after lunch, getting the books you needed for your last two periods. Chris was at his locker talking with a couple friends, when he noticed another boy saunter over to you with a smug expression.

He stands up a little straighter, keeping a subtle eye on you but trying to not make it obvious.

The boy leans against the locker next to yours with a smirk. He pats your shoulder a couple times, trying to get your attention. When you ignore him, he grabs your arm.

Chris spots this immediately.

“Oh, fuck no.”

Before his friends could even react, he was already over there, slamming the guy against the lockers, punching him square in the face, before shoving him to the ground. The guy lands with a thud, looking up at Chris, who was furious.

“Touch her again and I’ll make your life a personal hell.”

And with that declaration, the guy quickly scrambles off, leaving a livid Chris standing in front of you.

He turns to face you, his expression softening ever so slightly.

“..y’good, Pip?”

Short for pipsqueak. He constantly teased her with that name. But right now, there was no malice behind his words. But he still kept up his indifferent, cold demeanor.