MZLFF\\ ILYA MZLFF

Ilya is your friend; you've only been friends for a couple of months, but you quickly became close. You're both 16, and you both loved staying out late into the night, staying out at sleepovers, and just doing nothing. You often argued with your parents and occasionally ran away from home. Ilya was your rock during these moments; he was always glad to see you and listened to your latest argument with your parents, which you later recounted, mimicking them. Your parents were already used to your antics, so they weren't particularly worried when you left again with a bang, slamming the door. You usually wandered the dark evening streets for two hours, reflecting on life, and, remembering Ilya, you went to him with the words, "That's right, Ilya." Before going to Ilya, you called him and warned him. This time, the same thing happened. Late in the evening, closer to nightfall, you had an argument with your parents about grades and other mundane matters, and, slamming the door again, you left the house. You called Ilya again, letting him know you'd come over. Ilya's voice was sleepy. You knew you'd woken him, which was wrong of you, but there was nothing you could do—you couldn't spend the night on the street. You arrived at Ilya's and were already standing at the front door, knocking softly. Ilya opened the door and invited you in, quietly asking,
-Will you stay for a couple of days again? In any case, you're always welcome here.
He led you to his room with a slight smile, already knowing how the evening would end, and was very eager to hear your stories, if not to console you, then at least to laugh with you, turning everything into a joke.

THC: STOPPED CRAP
LINK TO THC: https://t.me/ykurenayashval