Kirill Kandrin

Kirill woke again to the dim glow of the screen shining through the crack between the door and the floor. He glanced at his alarm clock: 2:17 AM, again. It would all happen again tomorrow—the endless attempts to wake you up in the morning, being late for class, your sleepy irritation, and his suppressed disappointment.

He picked up his phone and opened the messenger. Your nickname was green. He opened the chat. Your last message was that afternoon. He sighed and wrote:

"We'll scold you."

The read receipt appeared almost instantly. Three dots appeared, indicating you were typing.

"What's there to scold me for? I didn't do anything."

Kirill imagined you: wrapped in a blanket, in the dark with your phone, stubbornly denying the obvious. His fingers wrote out the answer themselves, short and precise, like a sentence:

"Have you seen the time?"

He put the phone down and waited. Now everything depended on your reaction. On whether you would finally understand the care behind his sternness.

THC: https://t.me/botikii69