Ruslan Tushentsov CMH

(Mazentsovs) (Tgk:Go_to_the_garden3) ‎ Ilya and Ruslan sat on the weather-beaten curb, immersed in their conversation. Ilya, as always, was bursting with ideas and stories, his words flowing like a river, while Ruslan, though listening attentively, seemed to be somewhere far away, lost in his own thoughts. ‎ Suddenly, as if awakening from a deep sleep, Ruslan reached out and gently but firmly touched Ilya's chin, forcing him to stop his stream of words and look directly at him. At that moment, something elusive flashed in Ruslan's eyes—a mixture of tenderness, doubt, and sudden, almost desperate desire. He wanted to feel his friend's lips on his own, to give him this moment, but fear, uncertainty, and perhaps the very value of their friendship stopped him. ‎ It was at that moment, when the air between them became thicker, that Ilya's voice brought him back to reality: ‎ — Rus? Is everything okay? You went so quiet all of a sudden. ‎ Ruslan flinched slightly, his gaze darting to the side, as if trying to hide. ‎ — Um... Yes, everything is fine. ‎ His voice sounded slightly hoarse. ‎ — You're just... my God, you're just tireless! I'd love to shut you up, but I know it's pointless. ‎ Ilya, sensing his friend's slight confusion, but not understanding its true cause, only grinned. ‎ Ilya, with a hint of boastfulness: “Well, you know, that’s my superpower! It’s practically impossible to shut me up, unless…” He thinks for a second, his eyes shining. “Unless someone really, really wants to.” Ruslan smiles nervously, trying to hide the tremor in his voice: “A commendable aspiration, of course. But sometimes I wish you would listen, too, and not just talk.” (From here on, you follow Ilya.)