Gleb

“You are so beautiful that it takes your breath away.” My throat is dry as a desert. Ease the suffering, Ksyusha, do not torment me!

"Shut up, Romeo!" She laughs, covering her mouth with her hand. - Nikita, tell him!

- Leave me alone, Romeo, this is a friendly meeting, - this traitor takes her side.

Of course, he's trying to impress her friend, who agreed to date him after a month of following her around like a beaten puppy. I could do that too, and I did, but Ksyusha is a tougher nut to crack. Everyone is talking about the fact that we can only communicate as friends, but she is not looking for a relationship. Little pest!

I was lured into this boring movie under the pretext of a double date! – I am indignant, angrily sipping cola.

The girls insisted on eating at the food court after the movie, dropping the restaurant idea.

- Ksyusha, how can you refuse this miserable poor fellow? Sasha sighs with mock sympathy. - He's about to cry.

“Unless you're trying to be witty,” I quipped, wishing she and Nick would disappear. “Blondie, what do I need to do to get you to go on a real date with me?”

"Don't call me blonde, for starters?"

- Excluded.

She also likes it. I know I like it, because every time I call her that, she looks excited and I know for sure that it's from how nice it is, and not because of irritation. Girls love nicknames, although I chose not quite affectionate, but I just can’t turn my tongue to call her a bunny or a kitten, because from the moment we met, I thought of her as a blonde. The only one of its kind that could hook me.

Will you perform one of the labors of Hercules? - continues, smiling slyly this splinter.

Do you have a stable that needs cleaning? Because everything else is hardly doable, unless you are from the wizarding world. I'm afraid that we, ordinary Muggles, cannot accomplish such feats with all our desire.

It seems that both Ksyusha and Sasha held their breath after my words, and in a second I understand that this is the way it is.

“And you know about Muggles because…” the girl looks at me questioningly, with such hope in her eyes that I'm a little lost.

- Read Harry Potter, like many before me? Yep, I'm stating the obvious.

You said read! - Ksyusha's eyes light up with delight.

- So what? – asks for me the same not understanding Nick.

- I read, but did not look, bullshit! Sasha explains to him. - She's gone.

“I agree to one date,” Ksyusha blurts out, trying to look cool, but her rather sparkling eyes and a barely suppressed smile betray a blonde with a head.

"So I just had to admit that I read children's books to get you?" I don't believe in this nonsense.

“Look, I can change my mind, you are our self-confident one,” Ksyusha warns. - What does it mean to get? One date, one chance. Don't blow it, Gleb.

“I’ll try,” I grin wildly.

***

Arranging a dream date for Ksyusha turned out to be easier when I stopped racking my brains and decided to give her magic. It’s good that I’m not a poor guy, because all this cost me a small fortune, but the organizer of unusual holidays, who was recommended by my friend Demid, did his job one hundred percent. I even almost believed that it was real magic.

I didn't tell Ksyusha how to dress better and didn't say where we were going, but on X day I sent her a message with the address and name of the sports bar. She arrived in a taxi, which I noticed through the window, and as soon as she entered the bar with a couple of women and a whole horde of men, since it was football season, she began to look around in bewilderment, giving me time to appreciate her appearance.

I must say, Ksyusha got dressed, as if reading my thoughts. She wears a short plaid dress with a full skirt and army boots, curly blond hair loose to her shoulders, and bright lipstick on her lips. Such an innocent and bad girl at the same time. A killer combination.

I wave my hand to get her attention and she starts making her way to my table, her disappointment on her face.

- Hey! I almost scream over the noise of the raging sports fans, kissing her on the cheek and flopping back down.

“Hello,” Ksyusha squeezes out more quietly, sitting down opposite.

I immediately shoved the menu into her hands.

- Order quickly, I'm starving!

I have to scream to be heard, and I wonder how long the blonde's endurance will last for such a date. Surprisingly, she turned out to be more patient than I thought, because she makes an order and even waits for him for twenty minutes in silence, since it is impossible to speak with the surrounding noise. Finally, I decide to take pity on our psyche and resolutely stand on my feet.

“Come with me,” I tell her, holding out my hand.

She's obviously considering it before picking it up and walking with me to the side door leading to the technical rooms.

“I hope you don’t count on intimacy by bringing me here, because it won’t happen,” the girl tells me irritably, and I chuckle to myself.

- What are you, Ksyusha, what kind of intimacy? I'm not like that, I'm decent, - I pretend to be horrified, opening the door to a small dark room without windows, in which there is only a man-sized fireplace against the wall, on which there is a dish of flying powder on top.

Ksyusha cautiously looks around, not understanding what we are doing here, when suddenly torches with real fire are lit on the walls.

- Ouch! she twitches fearfully. "Mom, what's going on!?"

“Magic,” I say mysteriously, leading her to the fireplace. “We need to move somewhere, miss. Have you already traveled through the fireplace network?

She looks at me with both incomprehension and skepticism, but with a measure of apprehension.

- Gleb, I don’t understand anything ...

“If not, I suggest we do it together,” I ignore her confusion. “Please, ladies, go ahead.

I point to the fireplace and fortunately, despite bewilderment, Ksyusha decides to play along and enters into it. I take a bowl filled with green powder that mimics flying powder and hand it to her. She takes a small handful in her fist and still looks at me like I'm crazy, but with a spark of amusement, I follow her example and put the bowl back before stepping into the fireplace and taking her free hand.

- Madame Puddifoot's Cafe. Let's go for three, I instruct her. - One two Three. Madame Puddifoot's Cafe!

"Madame Puddifoot's Cafe!"

We simultaneously throw gunpowder under our feet, soiling our shoes and Ksyusha laughs merrily, but the next moment we are abruptly thrown down by an impromptu elevator, which makes her scream in fright and grabs me with both hands. A second - and we are in the basement of the bar rebuilt as a fabulous cafe, we leave a much more beautiful and clean fireplace, suitable for a pink interior. Ksyusha's eyes are the size of saucers and she even pinches her hand, and then looks at me with her eyes wet with tears, and quietly whispers:

- It's just a dream ... Thank you, Gleb.

On that day, I get a chance for other, less fabulous, but equally unforgettable dates. Because any moment with a girl that I fell in love with, without expecting it myself and without thinking that I was capable of such feelings, is unforgettable.

***

- Did you hear that Demid and Elya decided to get married? - Ksyusha asks the first thing when we meet for dinner.

She is still finishing her studies, and I graduated this year and used my generous trust fund, to which my father had the foresight not to give access to my mother during the divorce, to start my own business.

We have been meeting with Ksyusha for several months now, and because of my employment after graduation, we began to see each other, unfortunately, less frequently. I wildly miss my blonde, but I can't help it. It turns out to devote time to her only at lunchtime and on the rare nights when she stays with me. My cunning in no way hinted at further steps in the development of our relationship, but I know that she is waiting for this, and, what can we hide, I also want her to be there every day. That is why I decided to invite her to move in with me, but the news about the wedding of Demid and Eli, who have been dating for only a couple of months, stops me. What if Ksyusha also immediately wants to get married and does not agree to live together just like that? I'm not sure, not that I'm ready, but even that I want to get married someday.

“Yes, Nikita told me yesterday,” I answer her. - I think it's complete nonsense. She was barely eighteen, she was almost a child. What marriage?!

“Well, that’s their business,” Ksyusha remarks diplomatically. - But I agree. They could have lived together to begin with, in order to know for sure whether they would work out or not. Kind of an impulsive decision, but oh well. She's our friends, so let's just wish them well and keep our doubts to ourselves. Are you coming to the party today?

“I’ll come, but I might be late,” I wince. “I know I’ve been a useless guy lately, but can you drive up by yourself?”

“I can,” Ksyusha sighs. - I'm trying to be understanding, Gleb, but I see you so rarely lately! I don’t know what you do there, but even during the session we talked more often, and the time was nowhere more tense, given the lack of machine guns for both of us.

“You could stay with me more often,” I suggest.

“You know how Mom feels about these sleepovers. I'm tired of arguing with her.

Her mom is a pain in the ass. Lady vamp in the form of an affectionate cat. Ksyusha does not tell me directly, as it is, but I know that she constantly puts pressure on her, demanding to define the framework of our relationship.

She herself is married for the third or fourth time, and each of her husbands was far from being a poor hard worker, providing her with a chic life, which she also wanted for Ksyusha. I quickly figured out Alla and I understand that she approves of my candidacy for the role of her daughter's young man only because she knows who my parents are and is already dreaming of the day when the blonde and I will get married. And her unwillingness for Ksyusha to spend the night with me is due to the fact that on a starvation ration I will quickly take the next step, following her perverted logic. Of course, Alla herself is not some kind of villain, she also has good qualities, but her commercialism and prudence sometimes kills all good feelings for her.

- And if you do not take into account the opinion of your mother, what do you think about moving in together with you, blonde? I casually ask. - This, of course, is not a marriage proposal, here Demid overtook me, but isn't it time for us?

“Are you offering because it’s time,” as you put it, or because you really want to? – suspiciously asks my vermin. - Or, as a third option, because you miss me in bed?

“Because I miss you in bed, of course,” I answer with a hint, wiggling my eyebrows. - It's very convenient to always have you at hand when you need it. Well, I don't really need you. In general, when you are not there, I don’t even notice it. I don't miss you. I do not love you.

– You me here poernichit still! Ksyusha threatens with her finger. Gleb, I'm serious!

- I, too. Move in with me. After all, we will be much better together than at the moment. And I won't always work as hard as I do now, I promise!

“I don’t like your apartment,” Ksyusha pouts. - This is a real man's lair! You don't even have proper furniture.

“Well, well, cunning, you can make repairs,” I sigh, although I knew in advance that everything would come to this.

Ksyusha did not miss a chance to say how uncomfortable I was.

“Full,” she nods. You will have to move out temporarily.

“I’ll stay with Nick for a while,” I shrug. - He won't mind.

- Not! But not with Nick! The blonde rolls her eyes. - That is, well, at Nikita's, someone always hangs out. It's noisy, dirty, and you even work from home. You will be more comfortable in the hotel. There is money.

Yeah, she's worried about my work! Jealous witch! He knows that Nick's women walk on a conveyor belt, so he doesn't trust him. I was going to change over at the hotel anyway, but I wanted to turn her on. The stubborn never shows that she is jealous. Even when he sees that some enterprising girl is talking to me in a club or restaurant, he silently stands aside, pretending not to even look, and in extreme cases only makes some sarcastic comment, not realizing that I want to manifest her feelings. Yes, even if there is a scandal, if only she doesn’t pretend that she doesn’t care! And all mother's upbringing. Surely she put it into her head that men do not tolerate tantrums. Guru of relations, her mother!

Looks like masochism on my part, given that I grew up in an atmosphere of female tantrums and scandals, which my own mother is generous with, and always appreciated restraint in girls, but when it comes to my blonde, everything is exactly the opposite. Her lack of response often pisses me off, and I try to piss her off already. She even accepted the offer to live together without enthusiasm. Well, nothing, away from the influence of her mother, she will gradually begin to open up. I'll take care of that.