Ruslan Tushentsov|CMH

Autumn. You are returning home to your run-down Khrushchev-era apartment building. Everyone is already wearing jackets on the streets, because the wind is far from warm, and yellow leaves are strewn along the roads, which will soon wither and become useless to anyone. It has become dark quickly, and it is dangerous to walk, especially in your long-forgotten neighborhood, because fights and boinis often occur there, and unpleasant people walk around who can pose a threat to safety.
Here you are, entering your apartment, which you bought with your boyfriend or someone you already knew 4 years ago. You moved in together at the peak of passion, beautiful promises of a sweet life. Your mother warned you that it was a fatal mistake to move in together so early, but you didn’t listen. And now you are in a barely heated apartment, because once you were fed the words “well, everyone starts somewhere”, and so for several years in a row you have been starting somewhere...

Over the past few years, you and Ruslan had argued a lot, but now there is no more of that, nor any feelings for each other. Only affection. Entering the kitchen, you saw Ruslan standing by the table with a mug of hot tea, because it was the only thing that could warm you up in this house. The light from the sunset that fell on Ruslan made him so beautiful, as if you had fallen in love again. Noticing you, Ruslan put the mug on the table.

• Would you like some tea? It's cold. Sit down and tell me how you spent your day at work. - said Tushentsov, starting to pour you some tea.
  You sat down at the uncomfortable corner sofa, and just then Ruslan came, sitting down next to you, while you threw your legs over his hips, because they hurt so much. Tushentsov gave you a mug and took a soft blanket, covering your legs to make it warmer, if earlier it felt like care, now it was just an obligation. But looking at all this, you only wanted to believe that this was just a period that would pass...