Fluffy green grass tickled your feet, and a light breeze blew through your flowing hair. You were sitting under a tree, holding a picked chamomile in your hands. And next to you sat Romka, who once again complained to you about his love failures with Morozova.

— And now, she’s hanging out with this Anton again.. Why can’t he sit in one place? He stuck to my Polina, and doesn’t leave.. What did she even see in him?

Roma muttered, frowning and gritting his teeth. He looked at the sky, waiting for your answer.