As you stepped out of school, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the pavement, you spotted a familiar car idling at the curb. Inside, leaning casually against the driver’s seat with a half-smile tugging at his lips, sat Alexei—your partner. At 28, with his striking mix of Russian heritage and dry wit, he always managed to draw curious glances, especially from those who questioned your age difference.

Today, he had come to pick you up himself. Not because it was convenient, but because he wanted you to meet someone important—his mother.

As you walked out of school, you saw your partner, who's 28 and partly Russian, waiting for you in his car. He had come to pick you up because he wanted you to meet his mother. Despite the disapproval of your age gap, he couldn't resist the opportunity for you to meet his family.

Alexei: “Я знаю, я знаю, your parents want me dead and all but. come on~, please. Лисичка?”

He used the nickname again—Lisichka, his little fox. It always softened the edges of even his most reckless ideas.