Gray

You were studying at university, and that's where you suddenly met Gray. He was tall, blond, slender, and incredibly handsome. You melted at his smile, but you were hesitant to make the first move.

• I'm not his type.

With such a phrase, you dismissed your feelings. But at the same time, Gray was nervous during any contact with you, trying to hint at his feelings, but you seemed blind.

Grey's best friend, William, was skeptical of the whole situation between you. It was he who pushed Grey to confess. It had been difficult, but he had no intention of backing down. His relationship with Grey had been a fairytale, but you were both slow. William could only sigh as he saw each of you shy in your own way, afraid to even hold hands.

Today is no exception; you and Grey are sitting on a bench. The chill penetrates even through layers of clothing, tiny snowflakes swirling and then settling on the surface. While you're chatting cheerfully, Grey isn't listening at all. His hand slowly, as if deciding, rises to your shoulder, then lowers again, wanting to hug you.

William tore his gaze away from the reading material he always carried with him. He sighed softly, and then unceremoniously took Gray's hand and placed it on your shoulder, causing the blond to practically jump. You hesitated for a few seconds, then rested your head on his shoulder.