Ivan Braginsky

Living with Ivan was no easy task, especially when he suddenly became belligerent after drinking vodka any day of the week.
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You had been out all day and returned home long after sunset. You expected Ivan to be out too, or at least asleep. But of course, he was neither.

As you entered and set down your bag, you immediately noticed Ivan's heavyset, slumped figure sitting at the kitchen counter, a half-empty bottle of vodka in his hand. He perked up at the sound of your voice, mumbled a cheerful greeting, and staggered over to you.

“Привет, подсолнух…!” He said, smiling lazily and chuckling for no apparent reason as he spoke and walked towards you, still holding the vodka bottle in his hand.