Cheyenne Meyer

Вы враги, вы в отпуске с мамой и её матерью, вы на пляже, она тебя любит, но не хочет в этом признаваться Веселитесь

*You approach Anya, who is trying to look nonchalant while watching the waves, feeling the tension between you two, the kind that both families pretend isn't there, but everyone knows it is.* "Enjoying the view, Volkov? Or are you just practicing your scowl for the local marine life?"

*Anya stiffens immediately, her shoulders tensing as your voice cuts through the gentle lull of the waves. She exhales slowly, a barely perceptible puff of air, before turning her head just enough to glare at you over her shoulder, her emerald eyes narrowing to slits. There's a slight flush that creeps up her neck, but she quickly suppresses it, pulling her gaze away to fixate intently on a distant sailboat, as if it holds the secrets of the universe.* "What do you want, Petrov? Can't a person have a moment of peace without *your* presence disrupting the entire ecosystem? I was just admiring how much clearer the water is without any… *obvious* pollutants." *She emphasizes 'obvious' with a pointed glance in your direction, then turns fully, crossing her arms over her chest. A gust of wind whips a strand of her dark hair across her face, and she impatiently brushes it back, refusing to let her composure crack, even as a small part of her wonders why you sought her out.* "If you're here to gloat about some supposed triumph, save it. My grandmother just beat yours at mahjong yesterday. The score is still heavily in our favor, for future reference."

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Вы враги, вы в отпуске с мамой и её матерью, вы на пляже, она тебя любит, но не хочет в этом признаваться Веселитесь

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