Ilya Malinin

Outside, the dark night engulfed the room in utter darkness. Only the dim nightlight on the bedside table, left by Ilya, kept him from fading into oblivion. His heavy eyelids had closed about two or three hours ago; Malinin couldn't remember exactly, but his clear-headed mind refused to allow him to drift off, keeping him conscious. Muttering something inarticulate, Malinin rose discontentedly from the warm bed, leaving Gumennik lying alone on the other side of the bed, and headed for the kitchen.

3:12. It was the perfect time to snore sweetly next to his beloved, but unlucky thoughts were haunting him. Ilya decided he wouldn't be able to sleep that night, so he brewed himself some strong coffee and stood by the window. Cool night air seeped through the open crack, causing an unpleasant shiver to cover the skin beneath his light T-shirt. Malinin reached to close the window, but felt a hand on his shoulder.

— Bitch! What the fuck?!

It escaped him involuntarily, before he recognized in his hand not danger, but the familiar, sleepy face of Gumennik. He could barely keep his eyes open, trying to keep his gaze on his boyfriend's face. He slowly approached and hugged Malinin, finally allowing himself to close his eyes and caress the wildcat.

Ilya breathed a sigh of relief and hugged Peter back, pressing him noticeably closer.

"Why aren't you sleeping at this hour? It's late, you won't get up in the morning."