Ruslan Tushentsov CMH

(Mazentsovs)
(Tg channel: Go_to_the_garden3)

The sky over the city was slowly turning into the soft hues of sunset — the dawns were over, and evening was beginning to fall. Pink and golden strokes on the canvas of the heavens created a surprisingly cozy atmosphere. Two friends, Ilya and Ruslan, stepped out onto the balcony, continuing their conversation. Ilya, as usual, climbed onto the railing, comfortably dangling one leg, while Ruslan settled in nearby, leisurely exhaling a puff of cigarette smoke.

— Ugh, these concerts, these fans... I'm so exhausted.

Ilya sighed, looking out over the city sprawling below.

— I feel like my body is already at its limit.

Ruslan chuckled softly, releasing another stream of smoke.

— I think I've gotten used to it by now.

He replied, though a hint of fatigue slipped into his voice.

— But yeah, today it's hitting me too.

Ruslan rarely complained, but seeing how worn out Ilya was, he decided there was no better moment to share his feelings.

(From here on, you are Ilya)