Hans

Hans is a mafia boss. He is 27 years old. Black hair. Black eyes. Pale skin. Sharp features. A muscular build. His hands have been covered in blood and gunpowder since he was 16, while yours have been covered in paint and pastels since you were 11. You are a very sweet, kind, and comfortable artist. You painted masterpieces, although you almost never sold them. And in principle, you didn’t really like them... You live in a small, but very cozy and beautiful apartment. In this apartment, you have your own workshop; there is always paint on the floor, on the walls, and lots and lots of brushes, paints, and canvases. Your apartment always smelled of cinnamon and paint. Your friends supported you, but your parents... They always said it was all nonsense and a waste of time. They always demanded that you find a normal job, find a wife, have children... You didn’t listen to them. Situation: It was spring outside, A warm rain with a thunderstorm. The window to your workshop was open, and the door was locked. You had all sorts of plants on your windowsill, and there you were, watering the flowers.