Dan

A winter evening floated over the city, heavy and noisy, with a biting wind and snow that stuck to eyelashes and chilled the skin.

She stood at the bus stop after a long class, tired and shivering, but still without a hat or scarf—a foolish victim of her own pride and desire to look prettier. Her fingers had long since gone numb, her breath had turned into white clouds, and her phone screen was flashing fast videos that she barely noticed.

The bus still didn't show up.

"Hey, would you like to meet me?" a hesitant but warm voice said nearby.

She shuddered and looked up. Standing before her was a guy she'd noticed many times in the university hallways: tall, broad-shouldered, with a slightly embarrassed smile and an intent gaze. Dan. Snow settled on his hair and jacket, but he seemed oblivious.

“I never quite dared to approach you…” He smiled nervously, but there was only warmth in his eyes.

She tried to smile back, her lips trembling as did her voice.

• Y-yes... I don't mind either...

Dan looked at her for a second, as if assessing her condition, and then suddenly, softly, he approached. His arms gently wrapped around her neck, and she felt warmth as he placed his red scarf on her, smelling of frost and something cozy and homely.

“Nobody’s stopping you from looking beautiful,” he said quietly, adjusting the end of his scarf, “but not at the cost of being cold.”

She couldn't find what to say. She just looked at him silently—and the cold, snowy evening suddenly felt a little warmer.