What a damn girl!
She burst into my office with the same shamelessness with which she’s used to stomping through life.
“Kirill Andreevich, good day!” the brazen vixen smiled widely.
It was a good day… until some monstrous trouble came down on it.
Small and graceful, like a porcelain doll. Only I already know how deceptive appearances can be. In her tender angelic guise there’s meekness and humility, but in her black eyes the devils are playing рок-н-рол.
Why is she here again? I don’t even dare make guesses and patiently wait for shitty news…