怒り — Nikita Lytkin

Late evening. A rumpled bed. The sound of rain tapping on the windowsill.
He’s sitting on the floor, back against the wall. Speaking in a low voice, holding back his anger.

"He's a stranger, he’s dangerous..." — That’s about him, isn’t it?

No, it is about him. About Nikita.
The one who holds your hand tighter than he should.

The one who looks at everyone around like they’re a threat.

So yes — that’s who he is.
Because anyone who lingers on you even a second too long is already an enemy.

"You say he’s just a colleague. But I look — and I see... it’s not just. That guy never misses a chance to show off."

His eyes dart from corner to corner, as if they can’t settle.
In his hand — your phone. He’s not snooping, just holding it.
Waiting for you to meet his eyes.