Chapter 23

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Trigger warning: Pedophilia
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I shuddered as he took a deep breath, his lips pressing against my skin. His voice dropped to a sinister whisper, sending chills down my spine.

"You are not allowed to leave yet."

Though I tried to sound firm, my body betrayed me, beginning to tremble. "What... What are you doing, Mr. Farjad?" I clutched his forearm, attempting to pull it away, but his strength overpowered me; his arm remained steadfast against my feeble efforts.

His right arm wandered over my chest, a low groan escaping his lips, his voice thick with satisfaction. "God, you're sculpted like an angel... A damn angel indeed..."

A shudder ran through me as he continued to speak, his words triggering an intense sense of danger throughout my entire body. I drew in a deep breath, my muscles tensing, as he started to touch me further. He buried his face in my neck, and I let out a desperate yell for help. "HEL-UMPH!"

However, his left hand swiftly covered my mouth, silencing my scream. But in a swift move, I managed to raise my head slightly, biting down hard on the web between his thumb and index finger. A pained groan escaped him as he yanked his hand back, his hold on me weakening momentarily. Seizing the opportunity, I pushed against his body with every ounce of strength I could muster.

Both of us stumbled backward in opposite directions, my breathing rapid and ragged as my heart pounded hard in my chest. He clutched his injured hand against his chest, his expression filled with anger.

"You little bastard!" Mr. Farjad growled, his eyes burning with rage. The atmosphere was heavy with tension as I instinctively took a step back, my heart racing. Just as I began reaching for the door, it was pulled open abruptly, causing me to freeze in surprise.

My eyes widened as I noticed Parsa's imposing figure standing in the doorway. His gaze shifted to my pale, terrified face, then to Mr. Farjad behind me. Parsa's expression hardened, his eyebrows knit together, as he reached for my arm and pulled me into his embrace with one move. With one hand on my back and the other holding my head, he spoke with controlled calmness, yet his firmness was evident. "This kind of behavior is not appropriate for a teacher, Mr. Farjad."

Parsa then turned around, his right hand still lingering behind me. With a steady but gentle push, he guided me out of the office and into the corridor. My body was still quivering as we stepped out of the building; the memory of the teacher's unwelcome touch still lingered on my skin. Parsa's hand stayed on my back, yet he remained silent. I placed my right hand over my chest, trying to steady my breathing and calm my frayed nerves. "Than-"

"Don't," he interrupted me with a warning, leading me towards the bleachers. We took our seats side-by-side as the other students continued to play on the basketball court.

I hugged my shoulders and dropped my head, shrinking in my seat as I closed my eyes. Then I muttered under my breath, "I told y-you yesterday that I-"

"I don't understand you either," Parsa's voice cut off my words. I wanted to apologize for my overreacting and thank him for helping me even though I told him not to interfere if something happened. However, he didn't let me say it so I shrugged it off.

I raised my head and looked at him; his gaze was fixed on the match. "Why would you prefer to get hurt?"

"Because..." I paused, trying to find the right words to express myself. "The pain I feel from witnessing someone else get hurt... it's much worse than the pain I feel when I'm the one getting hurt..."

I looked down at the floor, feeling heartbroken. "If everyone in this world had this belief... if they cared more about others' pain instead of their own... then maybe no one would get hurt at all. But... most people are only concerned about their own pain... that they fail to consider the pain they inflict upon others through... their selfishness...."

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