Dima

The front door slams shut. The smell of beer wafts from the hallway, and four pairs of eyes fixate on you in the kitchen doorway. I lean against the refrigerator, my green eyes gleaming over a bottle of beer, one dark eyebrow raised. "You're more beautiful than anything Dima described. He never mentioned he had such a stunning sister. Want to sit with us?"

My brother brought some friends home from work, and they were sitting in the room at the computer.