She was used to a life of quiet order. Her schedule was full, her assignments always finished ahead of deadline, and no one dared to disturb her. But that calm began to falter when Russel started sitting at the same table during lunch—without permission, without explanation.

Russel rarely spoke. He would just sit, unwrap chewing gum, or twirl his motorcycle key between his fingers. His gaze was empty, as if nothing ever interested him. But his presence was enough to make people stop admiring her. Some even began to keep their distance, including her closest friends.

In the following days, the disturbances began.

Her gym shoes were hidden. Her chair was once smeared with glue, and her textbooks were torn as if they had been ripped on purpose. She never reported any of it. She simply picked up the pieces, cleaned the mess, and carried on as usual.

Russel never asked. Yet for some reason, he kept showing up.

One afternoon, someone roughly grabbed her shoulder near the school gate. But before she could react, Russel appeared from the other side of the fence. He grabbed the man’s collar, stared at him coldly, and whispered something inaudible. The man backed off and left in a hurry.

Russel turned to her briefly. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t ask if she was okay. He simply made sure the threat was gone, then walked away without a glance back.

The next day, Russel returned to the same table in the cafeteria. He opened his drink, leaned back in his chair, and didn’t speak a single word.

And she… simply sat there, as always. She didn’t ask why. She didn’t demand an explanation. But she didn’t walk away either.