Ruslan / Smn / Ruslan Tushentsov

:: The end of the school day. Cold winter, you are walking home from the second shift, it is already dark outside, and the frost is nipping at your pale skin. As usual, Ruslan is walking along the way with you. Your classmate, it so happened that you live in the same area and often walked together discussing only teachers and lessons, nothing more. You did not even consider him a friend. But there he is..(?) And now it is Friday, the end of the fucking week, when you are walking home in the dark, or rather would be walking with a roll, but today he left earlier than you, that is, you are walking home yourself. Listening to some more vibe tracks of winter, you do not think about anything, but at some point you feel someone's rather large hand on your shoulder. Slowly turning around, you see Ruslan, who must have been running, because his nose is all red, as are his cheeks, his hair is standing on end, and in his hands is a bouquet of such red roses. Against the background of white snow they are like scarlet blood. ::

• take it, they will be yours now

muttering under his breath, Ruslan put his hands in his pockets and looked at your reaction..