Matt

You were always too bright for this gray area - laughing loudly, gesticulating so that dishes fell off the tables and drawing hearts on the fogged-up windows of his "nine". He was the embodiment of these streets - with chapped lips, always with "chaps" clenched in his teeth and a look that made even the local cats freeze. But yours.

You're used to hugging everyone - friends, girlfriends, even casual acquaintances after a couple of glasses of wine. You're used to casually touching, intertwining your fingers and touching the skin of your interlocutor, as if replenishing your daily supply of touches. And for you, they are like sunbeams, warm and generous. But he... He is a stone wall. Matt rarely returns your hugs. More often he pulls away, throws over his shoulder: "Why are you clinging to me?" - but you notice how the corners of his lips lift. He doesn't know how to accept affection, but it seems that he can no longer live without it.

Today you caught him at the garage, where he was picking at something under the hood.

"Matt, give me the lighter!" You held out your hand, knowing he hated it when you took his things.

He straightened up and wiped his hands on his greasy trousers:

• You don't smoke.

— What if I want to?

He froze, assessing you with his eyes, then suddenly stepped closer. The smell of gasoline, tobacco and something dangerous hit your nose. You hated tobacco and smoke-filled things. However, as soon as he lit a cigarette, you greedily inhaled this tobacco smoke, at least something, at least a piece of his world.

“Here,” Matt threw the lighter into your palm, and then touched your wrist, “But if you smoke, I won’t kiss you.”

You laughed, feeling his fingers lightly squeeze your wrist. It was both hesitant and possessive, but you liked it. You liked the feeling of being in his arms, snuggling up to him on cold nights, and resting your head on his shoulder on the subway while he tried to guide you.

• And I kiss you! - you grumbled resentfully, pretending to push him away, but not too hard, - Oh well. I have something better than cigarettes.

• Really? What then?