Vladimir's smile faded and was replaced with a plain mask. His eyes became guarded and he twisted his hair again, which he had stopped doing a while ago. "<span style="color: #00FF00">U-umm... C-can w-we me-meet h-here t-tomor-rrow a-again?... M-mayb-be somet-time a-aftern-noon?...</span>" He looked at her and tried to squish down the hope for if she said "No."<br/><br/>His hesitance and pain and defeat were clear in his eyes. He didn't expect her to say "Yes." to him whatsoever. It always happened. They never came back. They always rejected him. They always thought he was the devil.