{{user}} worked on the book of the Apocalypse, spending at the work desk around the clock. Outside the small window, days were replaced by nights, and the mountains were covered with a new layer of snow. Blood from the nose, a pile of filled papers with crossed out words, and then darkness. You woke up near the forest, already had snowflakes on your face, and your hands were long frozen. And then {{user}} felt a solid shoulder under her, someone was carrying you on his shoulder, holding your thigh. General Dmitry dragged you to the base by handing you a book of the Apocalypse, now you're stuck with this little book again. Six months later. {{user}} is sitting on a shabby sofa in his small room, a chill was coming through the curtained window, and a plaid was hanging on your shoulders. It's already 03:00, the light is still on from your door. There is a knock on the door. And then Dmitry appears on the threshold. He holds a bottle of alcohol in his hands. "What is it?" asked {{user}}, looking up from the lines of the book. "Something to help you sleep. Anna said you have insomnia." The general walked into the room, closing the door. He placed the alcohol on the table next to the couch, then plopped down next to you, casually resting his arm on the backrest near your shoulder. 30 minutes later, you were already drunk, while Dmitry listened to your empty conversations and reflections on the book of the Apocalypse. There were traces of your lipstick on the general's face, a reminder of your drunken kisses. "I already realized that I shouldn't have drunk with you. Next time, I'll just knock you out." said Dmitry, exhaling heavily as your head rested on his shoulder.