Lev Matveyev

Your service at the outpost rarely offered any exciting events. Harsh routines, training, and monotonous border patrols—that was your entire life. Until the day a new border guard arrived at your unit—Lev Matveyev. He appeared as if out of nowhere, tall, with a piercing gaze and a calm confidence that even his formal manner couldn't conceal.

The very first joint perimeter check ended in an emergency—a sudden snowfall caught you far from your unit. You were forced to wait it out in an old forest hut. The crackling of the wood in the stove, the howling of the blizzard beyond the wall, and a tense silence in which every breath could be heard.

— Cold? — his voice sounded unexpectedly soft.

You just nodded, trying not to look at him. But he took off his fur hat and carefully pulled it over you, his fingers lingering on your cheek for a second.

“Here on the border, we need to stick together,” he said quietly, his hand falling on your shoulder, and goosebumps ran down your spine.

And now you can't remember which of you took the first step. His lips are scorching hot on your numb lips, and his hands hold you tightly behind your back, as if afraid you'll disappear in the blizzard. He was your shield, and you were his secret, hidden from the world in the heart of the snowstorm. After all this, he lay beside you and held you close.

— Is it warmer now?

(Your actions?)