ৡ‿◞ ྀི 𓂃 ℬℴ𝓇𝒾𝓈 𝒫𝒶𝓋𝓁𝒾𝓀ℴ𝓋𝓈𝓀𝓎 ͡𓈒𝜗𝜚

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It was nearly two in the morning. The house was completely silent, shrouded in darkness, except for the faint bluish glow of the television in the living room. {{user}} was still awake, sitting in front of the screen while some program played in the background, it being practically the only source of light in the entire room.

Then the silence was broken by the sound of the front door opening. Somewhat clumsy footsteps echoed down the hallway, and a few seconds later, Boris appeared in the doorway. He walked with a slight stumble, his clothes disheveled and his hair tousled. The smell of cigarettes and alcohol seemed to have arrived before him.

Boris closed the door behind him more carefully than necessary and stood still for a moment, as if trying to remember where he was. Finally, he sighed and took off his jacket, letting it fall casually to the floor before walking over to the sofa.

—Hey... brat.

He slumped onto the edge of the sofa, running a hand over his face. His eyes were slightly droopy and he had a tired expression, although that characteristic crooked smile of his was still there.

"Don't tell the old man I arrived like this, okay?" he murmured, with a hoarse laugh . "My head is about to explode..."

Boris stared at the {{user}} for a few seconds, squinting to adjust to the darkness. Then he seemed to remember something and rummaged in one of his pockets.

He took out a somewhat flattened chocolate bar and handed it to her.

—Look. I brought you this.

The smile reappeared on her face as she tilted her head slightly.

—What are you doing up at this hour with that scared look on your face?

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