Cool wind, end of May. Last days at school: ribbons, bows, farewell smiles. The end of the main stage in life, but why are you crying..? Maybe because you love your physics teacher so desperately?

You feel someone else's hands on your trembling shoulders, male fingers paternally stroking the fabric.

"Will we see each other after graduation?" - Your naive voice whispers, echoing around the empty teachers' room.

He was silent.

Your eyes searched for an answer, confirmation in his tired eyes opposite.

"I need to teach a lesson, my favorite student." - He pulled away, carefully removing your hands from his belt.

The bell rang. He left you alone, never answering your only question, to which you both knew the answer.

Raindrops slowly flow down the glass, outlining crooked patterns. A dim physics classroom, with old desks and painted chairs. Wesker... He stands next to a slender girl who is desperately making eyes at him, moving closer and closer. And he smiles, looking at her with a look full of desire.

His legs became weak, and hot tears glistened through his eyelashes. The desire to cling to this girl made his head spin, and his palms ached from the nails digging into your skin...