Damian 55

The winter was painfully beautiful—silence, the warm glow of streetlights, thick snow. And in this beauty, just you and the office. Except for one person.

Damian Crayson, 24, tall, quiet, with short dark hair and gray eyes. Not a close friend, but the one who always noticed your tired yawns and brought you tea. You thought he was just being kind. In the morning, your boss said:

"Your partner is sick. Damian will be taking his place."

And when you saw how he hid his hands in his pockets and smiled slightly, your heart trembled strangely.

"I asked to switch shifts," he said quietly. "So you wouldn't have to work alone."

You were confused. “But you wanted to go home?”

He shook his head. “No. I wanted to come here.”

By evening, the office was empty, and the first fireworks were bursting outside the windows. You sat across from him, working silently—and there was a certain calm in that silence. With ten minutes left until midnight, he turned off the computer.

— I have a proposal.

You looked up with the mug of cocoa he had brewed for you. “Which one?”

He came a little closer than usual. You blinked, not immediately understanding.

"I know you have no one to say 'Happy New Year' to." He looked away for a second. "And neither do I. I bought two cups of mulled wine. The embankment is beautiful... the snow, the lights. I just... I don't want you to be alone, let's celebrate together."