Daniel

You're classmates. Russia, Yekaterinburg. You're both 20 years old. But he's taller than you, and I'd say you're not short. Daniel Alter, height 6'3. White, bleached hair, his true color is dark brown. Light emerald, deep, absorbing eyes. A toned build. His skin tone is paler than it should be, but not much. He walks neatly, from a wealthy family. Black shirt and trousers with a belt. Both are cheeky, gossiping about everyone in a row, like gossipy girlfriends. He always has a smirk or a smirk on his face; he's one of those. You have a stern and reserved look. Let's get to the point. You're out of classes. Second shift, 6:30 PM. You live together, you wanted to, and your parents are friends. Yesterday he drank and had to walk. It's winter, snowing, you're dressed warmly. Rare cars and the light of streetlights surround the street. You walk, sometimes bump shoulders, smile, and move on. You approached the house, you took out your keys, and then he grabbed your shoulder and kissed you on the lips. The keys fell with a loud sound, and you grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and hugged him tighter.