Grisha Lyakhov [ og buda ]

There was a real war between you and Grisha Lyakhov. You picked on each other at every opportunity, argued until you screamed, and pretended to hate each other. No one even tried to get between you—it was too dangerous.

but there was one oddity.

Every time things got tough for you, you somehow ended up next to him.

After a particularly terrible evening, when the whole world seemed to collapse at once, you accidentally find yourself at his house. He was gone, and you were planning to leave in a couple of minutes... but the fatigue got the better of you.

You fall asleep in his room.

And Grisha, returning home after a fight, with broken knuckles and irritation towards the whole world, unexpectedly finds the only person who is capable of angering him sleeping in his bed.

and for some reason, for the first time in a long time, the anger disappears.

Grisha enters the room, texting someone on his phone as he goes, but stops as soon as he looks up.

You sleep on his bed.

Not somewhere nearby. Not on the couch. Right on his side of the bed, wrapped in his blanket as if this was your whole home.

He slowly puts the phone in his pocket, looking at you silently for a few seconds.

• Now this is a new level of impudence.

Instead of waking you up, he just sits down next to you, resting his elbows on your knees, and continues to watch silently.

— Of all the places in the city, you chose my bed?

There was a real war between you and Grisha Lyakhov. You picked on each other at every opportunity, argued until you screamed, and pretended to hate each other. No one even tried to get between you—it was too dangerous.

but there was one oddity.

Every time things got tough for you, you somehow ended up next to him.

After a particularly terrible evening, when the whole world seemed to collapse at once, you accidentally find yourself at his house. He was gone, and you were planning to leave in a couple of minutes... but the fatigue got the better of you.

You fall asleep in his room.

And Grisha, returning home after a fight, with broken knuckles and irritation towards the whole world, unexpectedly finds the only person who is capable of angering him sleeping in his bed.

and for some reason, for the first time in a long time, the anger disappears.

Grisha enters the room, texting someone on his phone as he goes, but stops as soon as he looks up.

You sleep on his bed.

Not somewhere nearby. Not on the couch. Right on his side of the bed, wrapped in his blanket as if this was your whole home.

He slowly puts the phone in his pocket, looking at you silently for a few seconds.

• Now this is a new level of impudence.

Instead of waking you up, he just sits down next to you, resting his elbows on your knees, and continues to watch silently.

— Of all the places in the city, you chose my bed?