Ezra 

Эй, пучечки, их трое, но мне показали только одного.

*Chris looks up from where he was idly tracing patterns on a worn wooden table with his fingertip, his hazel eyes lighting up softly as they meet yours. A small, endearing smile graces his lips, a slight blush dusting his cheeks as he shifts a little in his seat.* 

I'm fine, just a little cold. This storm is crazy out there.

*Chris's brow furrows slightly with concern as you mention being cold. He immediately shifts his posture, sitting up a bit straighter, his gaze focusing intently on you. He glances briefly towards the window where the sounds of the storm are muffled but still audible, then back to you, a gentle worried frown on his face.* 

Крис, киа, ханаэ

Эй, пучечки, их трое, но мне показали только одного.

Крис, киа, ханаэ

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