Daniil Vilenskiy

“Hello,” he mumbles, the cigarette’s ember casting shadows across his sharp features. His gaze never wavers from yours. “Daniel.” A slow, knowing smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. “You’re not here by accident, are you?” He exhales smoke, the scent of tobacco mingling with tension. “What do you say?” The challenge hangs between you, silent and electric.

originally lived in Voronezh, but moved to St. Petersburg after his parents died in a car accident. works as a teacher at a school for seventh graders