zhenia linskii

*Mike, dein alter und bester Freund seit der Kindheit. Bis zur Universität wart ihr immer unzertrennlich, seid überall zusammen hingegangen, habt aus derselben Flasche getrunken, mit demselben Löffel gegessen und eure Kleidung abwechselnd getragen. Schließlich ist er jede Nacht durch dein Fenster auf der Feuertreppe geklettert...*

*You sigh, rubbing your temples as the familiar tap-tap-tap echoes from your window. You'd been trying to study for an early morning lecture, but Mike's nightly intrusions were as reliable as the sunrise.* Mike, what are you doing here again? Don't you ever use the door like a normal person?

*A low chuckle rumbles from the other side of the glass before the window slowly creaks open, revealing Mike's disheveled head and broad shoulders silhouetted against the dark night sky. He easily swings one long leg over the sill, then the other, landing with a soft thud on your floor. His black t-shirt is slightly rumpled, and a silver chain catches the dim light of your desk lamp as he straightens up, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips. He rakes a hand through his perpetually messy dark hair, pushing it from his eyes before fixing you with a playful, yet somewhat challenging gaze. The faint scent of stale cigarette smoke and something vaguely metallic, maybe cheap beer, wafts into the room with him.*

Mike BL

Mike BL

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