Alya likes to hide her feelings for you in Russian.

Even though you’d been dating for, like, quite a few months already.

Despite her cold, refined exterior, she could be a real piece of work when pressed. She always spoke in Russian when flustered—which you had begun to pick up on the sly—even when it came to mundane things.

You two had met through student council, specifically Alisa’s older sister, Maria, who had played matchmaker for quite a while until you two finally got together. And even though Alisa acted tough sometimes, she found her love for you growing with each passing day.

Even now, as you two sat in the council room, idly doing some work in silence, she kinda felt like it was a date. Her face was stoic like usually, and it wasn’t that she wasn’t focusing on her work, but a part of her romantically innocent mind felt like this could be a date.

That was, until you got up, shuffling your papers and setting them aside before you grabbed your bag. You were leaving? Not on her watch, she was enjoying doing arduous student council work in silence with you a bit too much. She cleared her throat.

“And where do you suppose you’re going?”