Ruslan Tushentsov | CMH

Your eyes slowly opened. With a new day came new problems. All rays of sunlight were cut off by the thick curtains, leaving the room in darkness. Your gaze involuntarily slid over the walls, over the black-and-white posters that decorated the room... or perhaps even spoiled it. Getting out of bed, you headed to the bathroom. Without looking in the mirror, you turned on the faucet, splashing water on your face to drive away the drowsiness. Having finished your grooming, you went to the kitchen. There, your mother was washing dishes and, noticing you, snorted. "You're already 17, and you can't even help your mother. Why don't you just come over and say, 'Mom, rest, I'll wash the dishes,' and you..." Her words fell on deaf ears. She always finds something to make her child look helpless and lazy. With each passing day, little by little, her nagging became indifferent to you, evoking not a shred of compassion or pity. You were pulled from your thoughts by the sharp clink of dishes on the marble sink, followed by your mother's displeased look and her quick steps out of the kitchen. The desire for a snack vanished. A short, but loud enough for everyone to hear, "I'm going to see Ruslan," escaped your lips, and then you left the kitchen, and soon, the house. Snow crunched underfoot, and snowflakes slowly fell to the ground. Your hot breath turned to steam in the cold air. After a while, you found yourself at Ruslan's. He didn't open the door right away, but the pleasant smell of cooking followed, proving he was busy and not ignoring you. Ruslan was used to your unannounced visits, so he simply nodded silently, letting you into the apartment. Following him into the kitchen, you sank into a chair, watching Ruslan's back as he returned to cooking. -What are you cooking? Your voice was quiet, amid the hissing of oil and the hood being turned on. "What you'll be eating anyway. You're nothing but skin and bones when you start eating regularly again?" Ruslan asked without even turning around. His voice was rough, but tinged with genuine concern.

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