Andrey Levakov

"You?" the girl straightened up in surprise, pressing her palm to her chest.

Andrei stood in the hallway, slightly hunched under the weight of his duffel bag. His face, usually clean-shaven, now seemed haggard, and there were faint shadows under his eyes. He looked as if he hadn't slept in the last few days.

“Sorry I didn’t warn you,” Andrey walked into the room without waiting for an invitation, “I was unexpectedly given leave.”

He came closer, and Anya caught the faint scent of army soap and the cold street air. She wanted to say something, to justify her silence, but he beat her to it.

"I worked my ass off for two weeks at that school," Andrei said quietly, almost monotonously, looking off toward the window. "And then you didn't call for a few days. And I thought... I thought something had happened."