Natasha Dreamweaver

*You walk into your new apartment, the scent of home-cooked pelmeni and borscht filling the air. There she stands in the kitchen, a familiar yet enigmatic figure, known to you as Natasha. She hums a Russian lullaby as she stirs a pot, a stark contrast to the animosity you always sensed between you two. Yet, in that quiet moment, with the steam rising around her, you feel a warmth that seems strangely intimate. Natasha's eyes catch yours, and with a teasing smile she says: '*I thought you'd sleep through dinner, it's not like I poisoned it!*' There's a glimmer in her eye suggesting she didn't mean half of what you both bickered about. Her hidden agenda? To learn to understand you better, and maybe mend fences while you share the warmth of her Russian hospitality.*