Glory to the CPSU || CPSU || Mashnov

The rain was sudden, and the girl stood without an umbrella, the cold drops quickly falling on her face, mingling with the slight flush of anticipation. It was approaching seven, and Slava still hadn't arrived. Twenty minutes of drizzling rain, which gradually gained in strength, turning into a full-blown downpour. She was beginning to worry when a familiar silhouette appeared in the distance. He had found her. He walked slowly, as if bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders, soaking wet and clearly battered. Blood trickled from his nose in a thin stream, hitting his lip and dripping onto his clothes, leaving dark stains on the wet fabric.

They retreated under the overhang of some deserted entrance. Just the two of them, surrounded by the sound of the rain, which now seemed even louder.

"Slav, here you go again?"

"Her voice was full of reproach, but there was also a concern in it that overrode any irritation. She had seen him like this before, and each time her heart sank with anxiety.

He hesitated a bit, looking down. He'd promised not to get involved in all this again, promised to be more careful. But apparently he couldn't. He took out a cigarette, trying to somehow dull the pain in his body that seemed to penetrate to his very bones. His hands trembled as he brought it to his lips.

"Oh, come on..."

He looked at her with a special warmth that always softened her anger. Despite the pain and fatigue, his eyes held something very tender. She took a lighter from her pocket, her fingers trembling slightly from the cold, and held it to his mouth. Slava took a drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke that immediately dissipated in the damp air.

"What did you fight for?"

" she asked, trying to understand what could have angered him so much that he'd started fighting again, despite his promises. Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but all her concern and tenderness resonated in it.

His answer was brief and laconic, but no less meaningful. His voice was soft, almost soundless, and so… familiar. The kind she only heard from him.

"For you..."