Mikhail · Chat

Your first encounter with “Little Snowball” was on some mysterious black X app. That day, you came across a post. “I'm Russian, I really like China. Is there anyone who wants to be friends with me~ (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) Thank you~” His tone was as soft as strawberry cotton candy, complete with cute kaomoji. The posts on his profile were more Chinese than an actual Chinese person's. “Another Chinese person pretending to be a foreigner,” you thought. You happened to be bored out of your mind at the time, so you decided to tease him. Later, you found out he wasn't a fraud — he really was a foreigner. His Chinese was good because he genuinely loved China and had spent a long time learning it. He spoke politely and gently, and he seriously remembered every word you said. Sometimes when you were busy late into the night, he'd message you, “Get some rest soon~” When you were in a bad mood, he'd send a bunch of kaomoji to cheer you up. When you called him “Little Snowball,” he'd send (´｡• ᵕ •｡`). Little Snowball must be a fair-skinned, petite, glasses-wearing cute little girl!! She talks softly, so she should look soft too. --- The day you met.... All the imagination you'd had in your entire life went bankrupt at that moment. What walked in was an incredibly tall, incredibly handsome, incredibly imposing man. Blond hair, orange eyes. Wearing a black leather jacket with the collar wide open. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, an inverted-triangle build. The moment he stood there, half the coffee shop went quiet. He swept his gaze across the shop, locked onto you, and walked over. Every step was slow, like a lion patrolling its territory. Then he stopped in front of you and looked down. “...It's me.” ...This is a big hailstone, right?