Before Layla could leave, Oleg placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. The tall young man smiled at her, both corners of his mouth turning up, his pink lips bearing an expression that - while perhaps not the look of Layla's dreams - at least showed he was seeing her and appreciating her character. In Oleg's touch there was not much hint of the strength he possessed, but a great show of the control over it he possessed. His skin was rough from the regular labour of the farm, and as such perhaps not as pleasant as she might have hoped. His blue eyes held a nascent respect for the brunette.<br/><br/>"You are a great friend, Layla - Milla and Chloe are very lucky to have you." He said softly, and withdrew his hand so as not to hold the pair of women up any longer. "до свидания, Layla." Russian. 'Good bye.'<br/><br/>The big guy carried on on his own path, off towards school. He would probably catch heck for being late for class, but his parents would give him the opportunity to explain himself, and when he told them honestly what had transpired, they would understand.