At the height of winter, after my exams, I was walking to my class, praying and hoping no one would notice me. From this, you might have guessed—I am a bullied student.

I get bullied for no reason. My actions, my reactions, and everything about me seem to invite mockery. There’s no past grudge or vendetta; they bully me simply because I avoid fights because I’m too scared to stand up for myself or because I’m afraid of falling yet again.

A brief introduction to my life: I am a 12th-grade arts student—an average one at that—with no friends. I’m a perfect example of an introvert.

At home, it’s no different. My so-called “perfect” family consists of four members: my mom, dad, younger sister, and me. Mom and Dad have often expressed that they never really wanted me. They’ve even said they had planned to abort me. My sister, on the other hand, talks to me like she’s the older one, always asserting authority.

I am just a girl from a disturbed family, surviving each day as it comes.

Even though my name 'Verena' says fearless , I'm quite the opposite...

Fear lies in every aspect of my life ... or maybe that sometimes inspires me **rarely**

Having a crush is difficult , especially when that GUY is popular as fuck and every single girl once in a school time had or has a crush on him

Yup..Mr. perfect athlete body , the captain of the cricket team, and wanted by every girl in our and other schools

The gaze I tried to avoid from every single day..the name I try to dodge every fucking time and fail miserably. 'Kyros'

His name . His smile . His voice **damn**

(This is just an Introduction)

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(ignore hehe)

Even though my name, Verena, means "fearless," I am far from it. As usual, I was getting ready for another horrible day at school, and somehow, my stupid thoughts drifted to him. Ugh, not again.

The person I’m desperately trying to forget—his devilish smirk every time the cheerleaders swarm around him. Those boring grey eyes that somehow haunt my mind. I mean, seriously, I should forget him. Damn.

Mr. Perfect. The star athlete. The captain of our school's cricket team. Kyros.

A tiny crush couldn’t hurt, right? No one would notice anyway. Or so I keep telling myself.

It’s become my daily routine—wandering through the hallways, stealing glances at him. Watching him laugh and play with his friends, pretending it’s all just a coincidence.

The way his grey eyes look when he’s focused. The way his messy hair clings to his forehead, damp with sweat. The way he rubs the back of his neck when he’s embarrassed—it’s ridiculous how these little things make my day.

Every time I see him, he’s rejecting someone—a junior, a senior—it doesn’t matter. He seems to have a never-ending line of admirers. And yet, he always says no. The jealousy I feel sometimes... it’s insane. Why him? Why do I care so much?

But here I am, caught in this silly crush that will probably never mean anything to him.

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THANK YOU

**Walked through school, feeling tense as I approached class.** The weight of the day hung over me because I had to sit there, forced to maintain eye contact with those *creatures*. As soon as I entered the classroom, I heard the girls snickering and calling me **"shortie."**

Yeah, "shortie." I'm the shortest in class at 5'4", and they never let me forget it. There was a time when their taunts made my blood boil, but lately, I’ve been too tired to even react. What's the point?

I turned to face them, already knowing who it was—Lia. Of course, it’s *Lia*, the *perfect girl* every boy dreams of dating. And of course, she’s still chasing Kyros.

“Why do you look like you’re about to kill me?” she said, smirking as if she was doing me a favor by speaking to me.

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice flat.

“Oooh, look who suddenly has a mouth!” her minions chimed in, their giggles making me grit my teeth.

Thankfully, the class teacher arrived earlier than expected, cutting their fun short. They quickly went silent, much to my relief.

After class, I rushed to get out of school, eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere. As I hurried through the hallway, someone bumped into me, sending me stumbling and landing ungracefully on the floor.

I looked up, annoyed, but my irritation vanished instantly when I saw who it was—Kyros.

Yes, *Kyros*.

His sharp, piercing eyes locked on mine as he extended his hand to help me up. Goosebumps spread across my skin as his hand brushed mine.

**He touched my hand. We... bumped.**

My delusional thoughts ran wild as I stared after him, but before I could even manage a word, he walked away like nothing had happened.

Embarrassed and flustered, I made my way home, trying to shake off the encounter. As I reached my house, something caught my attention—a letter lying near the door.

It was strange; who even uses letters these days?

I picked it up and noticed there was no "From" or "To" address. The only thing written on it was:

**"Mo Chuisle."**

Confused, I furrowed my brows. What the hell did that mean? I quickly searched it on Google, and the result came up:

**"My pulse."**

A million questions flooded my mind. Who sent this? Why? What does it mean?

Authors words

Guys do say who's the story till now and should I make any changes and add some details

do support ✌️

HDd

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