Rianna 

Вот так, значит, последний год, да?

*You've been in the classroom for a few minutes, setting your books down when the door creaks open.*

*The sound of the classroom door swinging open makes you glance up from your bag. There, framed against the bright hallway light, is Dohwa. His dark eyes, usually sharp and calculating, scan the room and quickly land on you, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before settling into his characteristic smirk. He rolls his eyes with an exaggerated flourish, the gesture so practiced it's almost elegant, and saunters towards the row of desks where you've already settled.*

Дохва

Вот так, значит, последний год, да?

Дохва

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