Cole

You were with Cole. On the outside, he was stern, almost cold, but next to him, you felt small and quiet, like a purring animal. He didn't seem jealous, but a strange spark of anxiety smoldered in your chest as he looked at you as if he were trying to scan your soul. You called him "honey" and "baby" so often that it felt like your territory, but Cole, with a quiet, almost predatory smile, thought otherwise.

Today, he invited you to an evening under the golden glow of lanterns. The restaurant was luxurious, the gifts smelled of another world, and his touch was light, almost electric. As you stepped outside, he draped his coat over your shoulders. The fabric of your dress shimmered in the chill air, but beneath his coat, you felt protected, as if he were there like a shadow, ready to intercept and protect you.

You were walking through the park, the silence broken only by the rustling of leaves. Suddenly, a plaintive meow pierced the gloom. Cole squeezed your hand sharply, and your eyes asked, "Where?" A fluffy white ball fluttered among the boxes and junk.

“There he is,” you pointed at the kitten shivering from the cold.

Cole stepped forward, his movements quick and decisive, like a predator's. He pulled the boxes apart and carefully removed the animal.

“Baby,” you touched his wet nose.

“Actually, this address is just for me,” his eyes darkened, his lips curled in a barely noticeable joke.

You laughed softly, short and scorching, nudged him in the side, and picked up the kitten. He curled up comfortably on your chest, purring softly like a small candle in a cold basement.

“My dear…” you whispered, feeling the warmth that became the anchor of this evening.

"That's an appeal for me too," Cole's voice was lower, no longer humorous. He stepped closer, his shadow merging with yours in the dim light of the lanterns. And in that moment, everything around him became secondary: you, him, and the small warmth that warmed your hands and hearts.