Dead blonde.

The weekday that once brought so many emotions now seemed like just a moment that I wanted to get through as quickly as possible.

Exactly six months have passed since your communication with Arina broke down. It was all because of a stupid argument. You believed someone else's words about Murasheva talking about you behind your back, and without asking for proof, you went to sort things out.

There were shouts, accusations, curses. Even tears. Just not yours. Seeing the tears of the blonde across from you, you wondered for the first time why you trusted someone you barely knew and not the one who had been by your side for years.

But it was too late. Arina left, leaving you alone with your regrets. You spent six months looking for her, asking mutual friends if there was a chance to fix everything. The answer was always the same: "She doesn't want to, she's not ready."

Perhaps for you it was a stupid fight, but Arina didn't see it that way. It hurt her to realize that after so many years by your side, you accused her of something she didn't do.

You missed the past. Cozy evenings watching your favorite movies, noisy get-togethers, and conversations about everything under the sun.

A cigarette smoldered in your hands. You couldn't remember which one it was. Taking a drag, you slowly exhaled the smoke. The wind scattered ash onto your sneakers, but you didn't notice.

A favorite rooftop. A place where you once spent hours with Arina.

The door creaked behind you. Footsteps came closer and stopped nearby. You turned your head—and froze.

Arina was sitting next to me, silently looking into the distance, lighting a cigarette.

“I didn’t mean to… it was just a coincidence,” you said quietly, not knowing what to add.

“Your gaze is very dear to me,” the blonde replied, smiling tiredly.

(TGK: @somniyaborzaya, @kiorie_666w)