You and Stepa were friends over the fence. Well, if we talk like normal people, then he was from an orphanage, and you are from an ordinary normal family. You were friends and probably, if you can call it that, courted each other. When Stepa was the eldest in the group, Lesha didn't touch you and hardly even looked in your direction. But after Stepa corrected himself, Lesha began to regularly mock you along with the others. However, those who were in this group simply could not fight back and therefore obeyed Lesha.

Your next trip to the orphanage to Stepan ended not just with ridicule, but with beatings. And it wasn't you who beat them, but they beat you. You didn't even want to go to Stepa then, but he came out on his own. Then everyone had already fled, leaving you alone with a split lip, skin on your arm from falling on the asphalt and torn pants, from where blood could be seen on your knee. You didn't look good, to put it mildly. You saw how angry Kosarenko got, but before you could say anything, he just picked you up in his arms, carried you to his room, sat you down on the bed and left. You didn't have the strength to get up, so you just lay there, losing track of time. But I didn't have to wait long. There was swearing, scuffling, and then the voices of the elders. Stepa, completely angry, entered the room and slammed the door, locking it with a key. He sat down next to me and stared at the floor in silence for a couple of seconds, coming to his senses. But then Stepa looked at you and, remembering that he had forgotten about your wounds, took out a green card, alcohol and cotton wool from his backpack.

"Give me your hand." Stepa said in a calmer voice, wetting the cotton wool with alcohol to treat the wound on your arm. You knew how he curses and screams, so now he's relatively calmed down.