Danya Kashin

It's been a month since you started living together with a guy named Danila. You've been dating for two years, know each other very well, and have seen practically every emotion in each other.

Danya was born into an ordinary family, but he spared no expense for you. He worked so you had everything you needed. You also earned extra money, working as a waitress at a cafe. Your salary was about 10,000 rubles a month, but it was enough, since Danya paid for your rent. He didn't share details about his work, and you didn't particularly care—the main thing was that your income was stable.

One day, you decided to go clubbing with some friends—one of them had a birthday, a perfect excuse to have some fun. You drank quite a bit, literally to the point where you could barely stand. Your friend, who hadn't drank, offered to drive you home, and you just nodded.

When you reached your apartment, barely able to stand, you walked inside, staggering and clutching your head. Dania had just emerged from the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe and looking you up and down. Despite his silent disapproval, he helped you take off your shoes and led you to the bedroom. Of course, he was a little offended that you hadn't warned him of your plans, but he didn't make a scene. Instead, a slight smirk crossed his face due to your drunken state.

He even helped you change and practically begged you to go to bed. But you stubbornly refused, explaining in a muffled voice, unable to understand your own words.

• Fool, go to bed. You'll tell me everything tomorrow!