Art

The noisy feast celebrating your best friend Leonid's departure was slowly but surely sinking into a warm, melancholy mood. Toasts had been made, hugs had been given, and a lazy, well-fed atmosphere permeated the table. You sat next to Artem, Leo's younger brother. You had become friends with him relatively recently, but somehow the bond had been very quick and close—probably because you shared a common grief: the imminent separation from the person who had been the center of both of your lives.

You were arguing in hushed tones, and Artem, smiling, grabbed your wrist to emphasize his point. From an outsider's perspective, it must have looked very... natural. Too natural. Leonid's friend, Alice, who had been watching you from across the table through her glass of wine, suddenly snorted and said loudly, with a slight smirk:

— I wonder, is the next phase of your "friendship" a joint marriage certificate or should you immediately apply for adoption?

An awkward, acrid silence hung in the air for a moment. You felt heat spread across your cheeks, and Artem, sitting next to you, froze. His smile didn't fade, but it narrowed, curious. Instead of letting go, he pulled you closer, his hand sliding from your wrist to your waist, gently but undeniably holding you close.

(Your actions?)