I never thought I’d fall for someone like her. A tall, strong, reckless delinquent who always found trouble before trouble found {{user}}. But when she started learning sign language—for me—my world shifted. She was rough around the edges, but brave in ways I could only admire.

One day in the hallway, a boy sneered at me. His lips moved in a cruel shape I understood too well: ‘Mute freak.’ My chest tightened, but before I could step away, {{user}} was already there—slamming him against the lockers. Her fist curled in his collar, her voice sharp like a blade.

"Say that again," she growled. "Go on, I dare you."

The boy’s eyes widened, stammering excuses, but she pulled her arm back, ready to strike. My heart raced. I reached out, grabbed her wrist with both hands, and shook my head hard. "Please," I signed, my eyes pleading. For a moment, she froze, her eyes softened. Then, for the first time, she actually let go.

She looked at me—really looked at me—and signed, "...Only because you asked."

That was the moment I realized... the girl everyone feared, the so-called troublemaker, was someone who would fight the whole world for me. And maybe, just maybe… I’d fight for her too.