You come down the stairs quietly, trying not to wake anyone as you search for a late-night snack. As you step into the kitchen, you freeze. Ana is bent over the sink, her tight jeans perfectly outlining her prominent behind as she washes a glass.
"Hmph. What are you doing here so late?" She straightens up, turning to face you with a sharp glare. Her thick Russian accent is unmistakable. Her delicate features crinkle slightly as she leans closer, sniffing the air. "Is that alcohol I smell? You’ve been drinking, haven’t you? You are just like my son’s other friends—reckless and foolish." She crosses her arms, her cold, piercing eyes fixed on you.
She steps closer, her heels clicking against the floor. "I should wake my husband. He would not like to know his son’s friend behaves so irresponsibly."
Hearing that, I felt a little guilty before saying, "I'm sorry for disturbing you, madam," before lowering my head in guilt.
Ah, the boy tries to be polite now. How quaint. "Apology accepted," she says, her tone still cold but slightly less hostile. "But you should know better than to drink and roam about like a vagrant at this hour. It's not safe." With one last disapproving glance, she turns back to the sink to finish washing the dish, her delicate, long-fingered hands gracefully moving through the water.
"You should be in bed," she says over her shoulder as an afterthought. "You have school tomorrow." Her sarcasm is barely concealed, but it's there nonetheless. "It would be such a shame if you missed out on another day of learning because of your childish antics."
Hearing her speak, I walked closer to her and said, "Hmm, Madam, you're speaking quite harshly. I like it when people speak like that." Then I walked closer to her and said, "Do you want me to help you wash the dishes, Madam?"
The air around her seems to stiffen as you approach and compliment her tone. "I speak the truth," she says sharply, refusing to meet your gaze. "It's better that one learns these lessons now, before it's too late." Her voice trails off for a moment, as if she's considering her own words carefully.
Her blue eyes flicker back up to you when you offer help with the dishes, assessing your sincerity. For a fleeting moment, there's an almost-smirk on her lips, and she considers saying no just to spite you... but curiosity wins out. "Very well," she finally says, turning to face you fully. "But only because I sense that there may be some useful information to glean from this exchange."
She gestures toward the sink with one elegant hand, inviting you to stand beside her. "There's a dishwasher, but my husband insists on doing things the old-fashion
When I heard her say that, I approached her and said,
“Um, Madam, you’re being rude. I like it when people say that.”
Then I approached her and said,
“Madam, would you like me to help you wash the dishes?”
"Very well," she says with a hint of surprise in her voice. "Perhaps there is something to be gained from this interaction after all." She smirks slightly, clearly enjoying the power play between you. Without further hesitation, she turns back to the sink and begins rinsing another dish, gesturing for you to take the one next to it.
As you work side-by-side, the tension eases ever so slightly. Ana's body is within inches of yours, and despite her initial hostility, there's something strangely... intriguing about being this close to someone who is usually so far out of your league. The smell of her delicate perfume mingles with the scent of soap on her hands, making you feel lightheaded in a way that has nothing to do with alcohol.
"So," she says casually, "you must be quite the friend of my son's if he invited you here tonight." Her voice is low and smooth, like sil
So I smiled and said, "Actually, I'm not that good, but I'm honest with people." Then I helped her wash the dishes and I could smell her perfume all the time.
Ana Ivanova chuckles lightly at your answer, the sound smooth and unassuming as water. "Ah, honesty is rare in these times," she says, running a fingertip over one of her diamond earrings. Her eyes narrow slightly as they meet yours in the mirror above the sink. There's an undeniable spark there now, a curiosity that you can almost taste.
"And what brought you to this point? A troubled past perhaps?" she asks delicately, flicking her wet hands against each other under the water. "Or simply a fascination with my son's friends?" She pauses for a moment, considering the question carefully before adding: "Perhaps there is more to you than meets the eye."
Her tone has shifted slightly, becoming almost flirtatious in its insinuation. The tension between you seems to evaporate like steam from the sink, replaced by an unexpected sense of connection that neither of you quite knows what to do with.
So I smiled and teasingly replied to her, "It must be you who brought me here," before I laughed lightly.And continue washing the dishes
She lets out another small laugh, more genuine this time, and gives you a sidelong glance. "Ah, to think I could be so influential," she teases back. Her voice is warm now, almost playful. Ana seems surprised by the shift in tone as well, and for a moment she wonders if perhaps there's more to her interactions with this young man than she first thought.
As they finish washing the dishes together, their bodies brush against each other occasionally under the pretense of reaching for a sponge or plate. Ana can feel the warmth of your skin, the faint musk of your sweat mingling with her own perfume. For a brief moment, she imagines what it would be like to lean closer, to feel your breath against her earlobe...
"There," she says once they've finished rinsing off the last plate. "All done." She turns away from the sink, straightening up gracefully and facing you once more. In the mirror behind