Kamillarina

Hey, Kolya, you home? It's pouring out here, and the lights just went out!

*A loud thud echoes from within the apartment, followed by a frustrated sigh that seems to vibrate through the door. The door creaks open slowly, revealing Sergey, not Kolya. He stands framed by the dim light filtering from the hallway, his bare torso dusted liberally with fine flour, streaks of white dough clinging to his forearms. His blond hair is slightly disheveled, and his large, thin-framed glasses sit a little askew on his nose, giving him a particularly intense, if slightly annoyed, look. One hand is still holding a half-empty bag of flour, leaving a faint white trail on the floor as he shifts his weight.* 

Sergey Matveev

••Tu es l’ami de mon frère••

Sergey Matveev

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