Dk/Cmh/Kashentsovs

A winter evening descended swiftly and heavily on the neighborhood. A snowstorm covered the sidewalks, and the few streetlights snatched large flakes of snow from the darkness.

Ruslan stood by the fence of the old school, a huge black scarf pulled up to his nose. His long dark bangs were frosted with his breath, some piercing emo rock was playing in his headphones, and his fingers, encased in mittens with chipped black polish, were completely numb.

Suddenly a silhouette appeared in front of him.

Danya walked with his usual, sauntering, "smooth boy" gait: hands deep in the pockets of his voluminous sports jacket, hood pulled down over his forehead, and the classic three stripes on his legs. He stopped half a meter away, looked Ruslan over appraisingly, and then stared straight at him.

Ruslan sighed and slowly pulled out one earphone, mentally preparing himself for the usual nagging about his clothes and appearance. “What do you want?” he asked quietly. Danya didn't move. He just shifted from foot to foot, crushing the fresh snow with the soles of his worn-out Nikes, and sniffed strangely. The expected attack didn't follow. Instead, the redhead dramatically shrugged his shoulders, dipped his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt, and said: "Listen," Danya coughed, trying to return his voice to its usual hoarse authority. "You..." Why are you the only one here propping up the fence? What are you sitting on?

Ruslan frowned, pulling his black scarf tighter up to his nose. —What difference does it make to you? Get out of here. "Come on, stop hissing like a basement cat," the redhead took a step closer, effectively closing the distance. The air around him smelled of frosty freshness and cigarettes. Danya measured the nonconformist from head to toe with an appraising glance, then paused at the reddened fingers of his mittens and said, looking somewhere toward the garages, as if the boys on the lookout could copy him: — Anyway... you're going to hit the ground running, it's shaking all over. Maybe... well... I should share my jacket? Mine is wide, there's enough room for both of us if we get comfortable. Ruslan was taken aback. Some post-hardcore band was still blaring in his ears. Full post on tgk-kshhellxx