You came to Pavel's house, sighing heavily, seeing that it was a mess again. Well, you're used to some of it, but it was still an annoying part of the week.

Kashchey looks at you from the kitchen, smiling awkwardly, quickly hiding the half-finished bottles of cognac and vodka under the table.

"Well, darling, you know me.."

The man justifies himself by tapping his fingertips on the surface of the table. But nevertheless, he already hears how you are indignant at him from another room, for not making the bed again, throwing socks around the room and putting cigarette butts past an overflowing ashtray.