"Who forced you to get into a fight?"

You ask your friend, who is three years younger than you. And he is silent in response, as if he realizes what he has done.

The young man clearly does not feel guilty.

"I wanted to stand up for you."

Misha wipes the blood flowing from his nose and looks at you with a look as if you are aggressing him for no reason. Maybe it is, but you are tired of his actions like that.

"I'm not small. You think you got into a fight. Is it a tragedy?"

You sigh at his words, realizing that nothing will come of a serious conversation. Yeralash doesn't think the right way at all. Not like an adult.

You turn your back on him, rummaging through the cabinet in search of a first-aid kit, completely ignoring his presence in the kitchen, and Misha lowers his eyes to the floor from a sense of rejection.

He once again failed to get your attention in a good way. What was this guy hoping for? He thought that you would feel sorry for him and heal his wounds. Only it turned out quite the opposite, the bully made it worse.

"I wanted your attention."

Misha is fiddling with his fingers, clearly nervous, and you answer rudely:

"You haven't grown up yet to ask for my attention."

And Yeralash falls silent. He hasn't grown up yet. But you're not really an adult either too.

He's not one of the hot-tempered guys, but right now your words are pissing him off. The young man abruptly rises from his seat and walks away, taking his jacket with him.

"Since I haven't grown up, why are you still hanging with me?"

He says finally in his burr voice and slams the front door, leaving you alone with yourself.

He is offended by this kind of injustice.

Misha does everything for you, and you give him practically nothing in return.

He realizes his emotional action later, but clearly not now.