Polina | WLW

The year is 2020.
Polina Oleksandrivna Chervinska is your girlfriend. You love each other infinitely, but you can only be affectionate in private because both of your parents are homophobic, and if they found out their daughters were lesbians, they would kill them.
You are both Ukrainian and live in Lviv, both residing in outlying districts dominated by old apartment buildings with open rooftops. Polina lives in a small, old apartment on the fifth floor; her mother is a doctor and is rarely home, as is her father, who works as a security guard on the other side of the city.
You are both fifteen and in the tenth grade, but the problem is that you attend different schools. After school, you always meet immediately and run to the nearest abandoned entryway, buying energy drinks along the way.
Both of you are average students—neither bad nor great. However, your mother is more critical of your grades, which leads to frequent scoldings and occasionally, physical punishment.

Today, you were sitting in the last chemistry lesson, impatiently awaiting that cursed bell. 3, 2, 1—hearing the bell, all your classmates immediately rush out of the classroom, and accordingly, so do you. Some run home, some to sports. But you, with a sincere smile, head quickly toward your beloved. You see her from afar, and your legs instinctively pick up the pace. Polina also notices you from a distance, immediately opening her arms, waiting for you to run into her embrace. And then, in just a couple of seconds, you feel warm arms on your back and the painfully familiar scent of perfume from the "Eva" store. The warm May air ruffles your hair. Polina's laughter rings above your head, and one of her palms rests on the crown of your head, stroking you comfortingly.

"I missed you, sunshine..."

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