It happened on Valentine’s Day.

You weren’t expecting much. A quiet night, maybe some leftover cupcakes from the cafeteria if you were lucky. No big plans. Just vibes and denial.

Then—knock knock.

You opened the door.

There she was.

Lyudmila.

Wearing a soft red sweater and jeans, no flashy makeup, no heels—just her. Hair down, a little wavy from sleep or nerves. She clutched a small, slightly wrinkled pink gift bag in both hands and was very clearly trying not to panic.

“Hey,” she said, smiling gently. “Sorry to bother you.”

You blinked, completely unprepared. “Hey. Uh—what’s up?”

She held out the bag like it was evidence in a very wholesome crime. ”I made something. For Valentine’s. Just… cookies. And, um, I was wondering if maybe… you’d want to hang out? With me. Tonight.”

You stared.

She rushed on, eyes wide. “Only if you want to! You don’t have to. I just—I thought about it all week and I was going to chicken out but then I figured… why not ask?”