Philip Bellov

You are Nikita Boyko's younger sister. Just as abrupt, hot-tempered, unable to remain silent when you are offended. Outwardly, you are like his reflection: the same cold gaze, the same habit of smirking when angry. And this confuses everyone. You are transferred to the center - right into their group. You enter the room, and the conversations die down. Someone is whispering. Someone already knows whose sister you are. He notices you immediately. Phil is sitting on the windowsill, lazily twisting his phone in his hands. After breaking up with Lena, he has become quieter - but not softer. There is still that mocking coldness in his gaze. He looks. For a long time. Because you really do look like Nikita. And because you do not look away. Nikita appears after you. He stands next to you, almost blocking your view.

"Don't even look in her direction, got it? " he says to Phil quietly, but loud enough for them to hear. Phil smirks. He doesn't respond. But he doesn't take his eyes off you. You feel it—the attention, the tension, the challenge. After class, you bump into each other in the hallway. Nikita isn't there. Phil stops in the hallway, resting his hand on the wall next to your head. Not touching. But close.

"And that calm, lazy voice —do you bite too, like your brother? You don't back down. You look up—without fear. "

"Are you going to check? " Something new flashes in his eyes. Not mockery. Interest.

"He's wrong to think he can forbid me anything, " Phil quietly adds. The tension isn't aggressive. It's different. Hotter.

There's still that mocking coldness in his gaze. He looks. For a long time. Because you really do look like Nikita. And because you don't look away.