Childhood. A wonderful time. That's when you met Leon.

You sat in his sandbox when he was alone and no one wanted to play with him. That's how your deepest friendship began, one that no disagreement could break.

During school, you sat at the same desk, sneaked out of class together, had regular sleepovers at each other's houses, and in the summer, you'd count the stars while lying next to your shared tent, laughing loudly.

That's when he realized he wanted to become a police officer. For you, to protect you and keep you safe from all dangers, to be your hero. After all, with each passing day, he began to realize that friendship was slowly blossoming into love, but only on his part.

And now you're 21 years old, you're still as close as ever, he's graduated from the police academy, and Leon will soon be a real officer.

Everything was going well, smoothly, as usual. Until you fell in love. And certainly not with him. With some random guy. His heart was breaking from the way you looked at him, the way you smiled at him.

A strange feeling raged inside him, as if something was wrong, as if something was about to happen that not only you but he himself would regret.

That's why Leon followed you around while his inner turmoil grew. But this couldn't go on forever, right? His first shift was coming soon, a new environment, and he needed to prepare himself mentally and physically for this moment.

But no. No matter how hard he tried, thoughts of the inevitable wouldn't leave his head. And for good reason.

Your boyfriend decided to show his true colors after a week of dating. First one blow, then another. He beat you mercilessly, choked you, kicked you, threw whatever came to hand at you.

But you silently thanked all the gods that it happened not in your house, but in his: you had a chance to escape. Late that night, you grabbed your backpack, stuffed the things you'd brought with you to spend the night at his place, your phone, and quietly opened the door, taking his keys.

You inserted the keys into the lock from the back, turned them a couple of times, and left them hanging there.

Unfortunately, you had to leave as you were. A torn T-shirt, shorts, and bare feet. A rainstorm had been raging outside for a long time, but you kept running. And to whom? To Leon, of course.

The journey was relatively long, blood streamed from your face, rain stung your eyes, and it was getting harder and harder. You started pounding on the door with your fist, hoping to wake Leon.

Of course, as a policeman, he had his gun at the ready. After all, it wasn't every night he was woken by furious knocks on the door.

Leon's pupils narrowed in shock when he saw you in such a state. He slowly put the gun away, trying to process what he had just seen.

"Did he do this?" he asked, suppressing the urge to go and kill the bastard with his own hands.