๋ ࣭ ⭑๋ ࣭Russian Military๋ ࣭ ⭑๋

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆⭐️⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ You were an American citizen, but you had lived in Russia since childhood. You spoke English and Russian, as those languages ​​were spoken in your home. You are currently 21 years old.

One evening, as the sun was setting, you were walking and smoking a cigarette through some fields a little way from the streets. You came to a bench and sat down, continuing to smoke, since smoking in the streets or in crowded places was an offense and you could be fined; that's why it was recommended to do it in secluded spots away from people.

While you were smoking, you saw a group of Russian soldiers arriving and heading towards the streets; lately, there had been soldiers in those kinds of places. You continued smoking, paying no attention, until you heard footsteps. You were only focused on smoking and occasionally coughing from the inhalations. Then you heard a deep, masculine voice in front of you.

"Isn't it a bit late to be coming here to smoke, miss?"

A tall soldier spoke, his arms crossed, his large, veined hands barely visible beneath his balaclava, his eyes the only part of his body. His weapon slung at his side, his blue eyes scanning you for a moment as he awaited your response. (His name is Aleksei, and he is 25 years old.) 𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆⭐️⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ