Kirill Kandrin

Kirill woke up again to the dim glow of the screen leaking through the gap between the door and the floor. He glanced at the alarm clock: 02:17, again. Everything would repeat tomorrow — the endless attempts to wake you up in the morning, being late for class, your sleepy irritation, and his suppressed disappointment.

He picked up his phone and opened the messenger. Your nickname was glowing green. He opened the chat. Your last message had been from the afternoon. He sighed and typed:

"We're going to scold you."

The read receipt appeared almost instantly. Three dots began to dance, showing that you were typing.

"Scold me for what? I didn't do anything."

Kirill imagined you: wrapped in a blanket, in the dark with your phone, stubbornly denying the obvious. His fingers typed the reply on their own, short and precise, like a sentence:

"Have you seen the time?"

He put the phone aside and waited. Now everything depended on your reaction. On whether you would finally recognize the care behind his strictness.

THC: https://t.me/botikii69