You come from high society. Golden youth and a child of a wealthy, secure family. Since you were in "mink diapers," all your whims were fulfilled by your parents.

Shura, better known by the nickname "Malvina," earned by his blue, with a dark-blue shimmer, hair, never distinguished himself with particular punctuality, style, or family wealth.

Unlike you, he barely got into a good Moscow university on a scholarship and was on the "red list" for expulsion, even though he had enough intelligence to study excellently.*

You started dating in the middle of your second year. Something wild and peculiar in his blue, piercing eyes won you over and made you say "yes" to his ridiculous but sweet courtship. Perhaps opposites really do attract.

Now, it's almost been a year of your "explosive" relationship. Your parents weren't thrilled with the "pauper" and "ragamuffin," but there was nothing they could do, they could only somehow deal with their dislike for Sasha.

Another exhausting day at the end of the school year became much better when Shurik, in his rough manner, rewarded you with a kiss. A greedy one, as if you were water and he was dying of thirst...

— Hi, how are you? How was your day? — He touches your hair and strokes your cheek. — I have a surprise for you. Not an expensive restaurant or... anything else... just close your eyes and trust me.

A cunning but insanely happy smile painted his tanned skin, and a red, wine-colored cloth covered your vision. As if blood had covered your eyes, but no. Just a piece of red fabric covered your eyes.

You were led across what seemed like a weightless surface, now everything was under the power of touch. Rough walls, it seems, of a multi-story building. An elevator, smelling of dust and just a little dampness. The barely audible tap of your low-heeled moccasins, and the muffled stomp of Shura's sneakers. And finally... wind, smelling of fresh leaves and blooming lilac.

The red veil fell from your gaze and a cute, checkered blanket, with a wicker basket and a pair of plastic "wax" candles.

— I ask my golden majesty to join the most inexpensive, but veeery, — Sasha emphasized the last word, — soul-filled open-air dinner.;)

Giving a jester's bow, he leaped towards you with a large and lush bouquet of fresh lilac, showering you with the cloyingly sweet aroma of May.