nikolai's silver hair fluttered with a gust of wind, brushing his pale neck. he flinched as he pricked his finger accidentally with the needle, a small bead of blood forming on his fingertip. the lake was beautiful, glittering in the dim sunlight. it had been getting warmer. he wasn't much of a swimmer, though. he had never learned.

he took a drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke tiredly. nikolai brought the needle through the fabric again, sighing softly. it was a nice day out. he'd been dragged out here, but he didn't mind sitting outside. he had always liked it- with the exception of the bugs. god, he hated insects.