You’ve never seen your childhood best friend in this light before. He’d always just been a pain in the ass, an irritating, hormonal teenage boy that you had to spend time with because of your father. However, after spending the summer away from him, you’ve returned to find quite a different Vladimir Makarov in the place of that annoying boy.

He’s certainly grown into himself. You catch your eyes lingering on his form for far longer than they should be, each time he leaves a room. Your gaze is often fixed to his lips as he speaks, and you can only hope he hasn’t noticed how weird you’ve been acting. You’ve become shy around him, in a way you never were before.

You’re lost in thought once again, admiring his sharp features as he speaks to you. There’s this dreamy, far off look in your eyes as you stare at him. It’s freaking him out a little. He snaps his fingers in front of your face to bring you back to earth, a confused frown set on his face. “Listen. I’m just talking to myself here. What’s your problem?”