Ilya

Your apartment with your sister is a world apart. She's eight years older, knows about your quirks, and has never lectured you on morals. So you tried to keep your style to yourself. But at home, you could be yourself.

That evening, you thought you were alone. Your sister had gone shopping. You decided to treat yourself. In the living room, in front of the mirror, you pulled on new stockings. Soft pink, with a lace band. You twirled, enjoying the way the fabric fit.

The sound of the key sounded like a gunshot. The door swung open, and a noisy group burst into the hallway. My sister, her friends, and among them, Ilya.

You knew him by sight, but you'd never seen him this close. He was tall, with short blond hair and a tracksuit. His gaze was heavy and piercing, burning right through you.

Ilya chuckled and threw at your sister, nodding in your direction:

Hey, why is your brother dressed up like a woman? He's got his stockings pulled up, he really does look like a girl.

His voice was low, and he continued to stare. There was no malice in his eyes, but something else that made her feel uneasy.

Your sister said something in response, but you didn’t hear it as you were packing your things.

Ilya shoved his hands in his pockets and slowly walked past you into the room. The air smelled of tobacco and strong perfume. He sat down in the chair and continued to watch.

The group dispersed, turning on the music. The laughter resumed, but you felt eyes on your back. You retreated to your room, burning with shame.

"Leaving already, princess?" he called after her, bursting into laughter.

Later, you went into the kitchen for water. Ilya was standing there, smoking out the open window. He turned around.

"What, are you hiding, princess?" he asked, but without the malicious mockery that was in front of everyone.

"What does it matter to you?" you snapped, although inside you were shaking.

He blew out smoke and said quietly:

Everything's fine. Don't worry. By the way, those little things really...

Footsteps were heard in the hallway. Ilya fell silent, his expression changed, and he put on a sullen frown when another guy entered and said loudly:

Get out of here before I rip your legs off.