His lips slid along my neck (goosebumps, followed by an electric shock), his hand pressed me to him, the other buried itself in my hair. Vortex. Lost memory for a moment. Whirlwind again. I push him away with all my strength, striking him with the cast of my left arm. He, losing his balance, begins to fall down the stairs, but at the last moment manages to grab the railing. - Should I go with you instead of that blond big guy? — I burst into laughter, “is that right?” With a dropper at the ready, smeared with mascara? Oh, excuse me, what exactly narrow circle of people did you have in mind? A meeting of psychos? Rally of homeless people?