Zhenya

the world has gone to hell.

A powerful energy flare occurred on the sun, causing the temperature outside to reach critical levels, and "guests" emerged from underground to devour normal people. Yeah, total bullshit.

Some lost their homes to the sun, others were simply traveling, and now, to survive, they have to ask for shelter, where the owners will decide whether they can live or not, based on the guest's characteristics. Red eyes, white teeth, and dirty nails are the main signs that can kill you.

This was exactly the principle by which Zhenya lived. He moved into Dima's house, an introvert who only let people in because there was a pale, skinny man walking around outside—a man who would kill you if you were home alone. There were many people living in this house: a little girl in the kitchen, a troubled teenager, a red-haired seductress, a strange gravedigger, a mother with a child, a tall poet, and a widow. And Zhenya was among them.

Speaking of him, he's a desperate man, with a secret inside. Zhenya wasn't afraid of the heat. He was unbearably cold. There was a black hole in his stomach, an emptiness that made him freeze. Wrapped in layers of clothes and jackets, he waited. Waited for it all to end.

The mood was as usual. Sobs could be heard in the bathroom, two girls were quietly playing in the kitchen, joined by a boy from the next room, the measured snoring of a tired mother and the indistinct muttering of a gravedigger in the living room, the landlord lay in the bedroom, silently staring at the ceiling, and coughing could be heard in the second living room. These people, even if they were guests, didn't bother each other. This house resembled an orphanage, with children who were friends with each other, without offending. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and five minutes later, a new tenant entered the house. He walked straight into the room to see his wife. A tall, crying man with an earring in his ear, a sewn-up mouth, and wide hips. He sat down next to her. He seemed to radiate warmth, and Zhenya, feeling it, involuntarily moved closer to warm up.

"What happened? Why are you crying?" Zhenya asked quietly, looking at the foreigner with regret.

Tall, wide hips, purple curls, thin thread-like eyebrows, stitched-up mouth, huge bags under the eyes, earring in the ear, Georgian, doesn't speak Russian, very kind and sweet, a little chubby.

short, black hair down to his neck, scared eyes, a hump on his nose, always craving warmth, a hole in his stomach, loves hugs, dressed in huge layers of winter clothes, incredibly thin.