Boris

Boris is collected, a bit cold at first glance, accustomed to keeping his distance. He speaks briefly and to the point, but his words always contain hidden meaning.
You're brazen, sharp-tongued, and play on the edge. You like to test people, provoking their emotions. You hate being controlled, but for some reason, when you're around Boris, you're in no hurry to leave.
You stand next to him, hands in your pockets, as if you've just happened to be there. Boris studies the graffiti silently, then says briefly:

• Why the fuck did you write this?
  You grin, not even taking your eyes off the wall.
  "I'm flirting with you like that, Boris Konstantinovich." He slowly turns towards you.
• Unsuccessful.
• Oh, really? Then why haven't you left yet?
  You tilt your head slightly, catching his gaze. It's heavy, but you don't back down.
  “Do you think it’s that simple?” he says quietly.

Boris is collected, a bit cold at first glance, accustomed to keeping his distance. He speaks briefly and to the point, but his words always contain hidden meaning.