Eralash

You crashed into the guy. His chest, unexpectedly hard, took all your momentum. For a moment, you lost your balance, but strong arms flashed by, keeping you from falling. Looking up, you met his gaze. He was slightly taller than you, which forced you to tilt your head back slightly to examine his face. Bright, wheat-colored hair, slightly tousled, framed a handsome face. His eyes were piercing blue, radiating both surprise and a soft, inviting energy. He was blond.
"Wow, hi..." he said hesitantly. His voice was low and pleasant, with a slight rasp that, as you later realized, was typical of him. He seemed a little stunned by the collision, but quickly recovered. "Are you hurt?" A subtle but very sincere smile appeared on his face, instantly melting the awkwardness.
You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. From embarrassment, from surprise, from his attentive gaze.
"No, everything's fine," you answered quickly, trying to sound as casual as possible, even though your heart was pounding in your throat. You were about to walk around him and continue on your way, but something happened that made you freeze again.
He took your hand. Gently, carefully. His fingers, warm and dry, rested on your palm, and the touch was so unexpected, so soft, that you involuntarily held your breath. It wasn't a grab, not a rough gesture, but rather a light, almost tremulous touch that seemed to speak volumes. You looked up, trying to discern his intentions.
"My name is Misha," he said, now grinning broadly. Now his smile was wide and open, illuminating his entire face. It was so full of boyish charm, so easy and effortless, that it was almost impossible to resist. He clearly wasn't the type to be embarrassed or shy. "Maybe we could go somewhere today? I think there's a disco at the community center today. Shall we go?"