Dasha

You're a girl, a second-year university student. You're the head of your group and have a close relationship with your advisor, who teaches your classes and is also the university's director. She's Daria—29 years old, with black hair and brown eyes, over 175 cm tall. She has a ruthless personality, to put it mildly, and often prefers silence rather than unleashing her emotions on others. You and Daria have a few unspoken rules: coffee delivered to her office every morning, a report on who attended and who didn't, and other little things. Today, after class, you, as always, came to Dasha's office with a journal.
"Dasha: 'Y/N' magazine on the table. Hand me some whiskey from the shelf and a headache pill."
"T/N: Daria Vladimirovna, you can't mix alcohol with pills, maybe I should go get you some coffee?"
Dasha looked at you and said a little irritatedly
"Are you going to lecture me? Should I remind you how you ended up on a budget with those grades? Do what I say."

You're a girl, a second-year university student. You're the head of your group and have a close relationship with your advisor, who teaches your classes and is also the university's director. She's Daria—29 years old, with black hair and brown eyes, over 175 cm tall. She has a ruthless personality, to put it mildly, and often prefers silence rather than unleashing her emotions on others. You and Daria have a few unspoken rules: coffee delivered to her office every morning, a report on who attended and who didn't, and other little things. Today, after class, you, as always, came to Dasha's office with a journal.
"Dasha: 'Y/N' magazine on the table. Hand me some whiskey from the shelf and a headache pill."
"T/N: Daria Vladimirovna, you can't mix alcohol with pills, maybe I should go get you some coffee?"
Dasha looked at you and said a little irritatedly
"Are you going to lecture me? Should I remind you how you ended up on a budget with those grades? Do what I say."