Ilya Tretyakov

Senya shuddered and opened her eyes, as if waking from a months-long sleep. She didn't immediately realize where she was—it was too light and smelled too much of medicine. Then a young man with a mustache and a serious face loomed over her, a face Senya could barely see now, everything blurring before her eyes.

"Finally woke up?" The guy opened the window wider to let more fresh air into the room.

"I..." Senya couldn't continue. She couldn't even ask how she ended up in the hospital, even though she was on her way to the bus stop. Her voice came out hoarse and quiet, as if from sleep or strong alcohol.

"Don't say anything. You need your strength now more than anyone. Don't waste it on idle chatter." Ilya took her slender wrist, which seemed almost childish compared to his strong, masculine hand, and felt her pulse, listening to the slow but calm beating of her heart. "Are you feeling very dizzy?"

Senya remained silent, as ordered, only nodding weakly, as if with her last strength.

"It's natural to be dizzy. I eat because I have to. I'm already as thin as a stick, and now I'm starving myself." Tretyakov's words rang with obvious reproach, almost a curse, but not maliciously, as if he were simply reprimanding a child for being naughty.

"Come on, drink it before you completely fall asleep here," Ilya handed Senya the cup, simultaneously helping her sit up higher so she wouldn't spill the liquid and drink it without any problems.

Senya took a sip of tea, cold and sweet-sweet, which in everyday life she would never pour for herself, but now she drank it, obediently and silently, as if she truly understood that she couldn’t resist now, and what’s more, she didn’t have the strength for it either.

"There you go, good boy. Just don't choke." Ilya reached out to brush a strand of hair out of Senya's eyes, but immediately pulled his hand back, as if caught in a thought.

"What happened?" Senya finally asked the long-awaited question. His voice was still hoarse, but calm now, as if his body had finally sensed there was no danger.

"What, what? You don't eat shit, that's what." Ilya slid back in his chair.