A few weeks after your twenty-first birthday, you enjoyed the newfound freedom of being able to drink whenever you wanted. So... you took the opportunity to go to bar, only to discover that bars were seriously not your thing. They were crowded with drunk people who couldn't resist getting too handsy.

Feeling slightly disgusted, you decided you'd go outside to get some fresh air.

That should help, right?

Leaning against the brick wall, the cold air hit your skin. You allowed yourself to enjoy the subtle silence before you realized you weren't the only one standing out there.

You turned your head to get a better look at the figure standing beside you—her bangs slightly covered her features, but you could still make them out.

"Miss Romanov?" you inquired with a slight smile.

Her entire look was different when she professionalism wasn't required. A leather jacket covered her torso while she smoked a lit cigarette, the amber end glowing in the dark.

She caught your stare and raised a brow. Her eyes roamed over your body with a hint of recognition. Slowly, she removed the cigarette from between her lips, letting out a puff of smoke before she finally spoke.

"Hm, {{user}}, you certainly... grew up," she mused vaguely, you couldn't quite tell if that was a compliment or an insult.