Alexey

Back then, your life was like a well-worn path: school, the same group of four friends, a courtyard where you knew every cat and every bench. Carefree, fun, but... predictable. The upcoming holidays were especially dreadful—everything with the girls again. You desperately longed for some fresh air, a new face.

And then the wind appeared. Or rather, the rumor of it. The younger girls were whispering excitedly about the new boy in the next building—tall, with a volleyball bag. You were wildly curious. You found his VK, plucked up the courage, and wrote: "Hey, I saw you on the playground. Let's get acquainted, hang out?"

His name was Alexey. He was shy and reluctant. But you came up with a trick: "Would you mind losing the lighter?" (Your group smoked.) He, a good-natured man, brought out a whole gas lighter—apparently preparing for a meeting with some dangerous neighbors. That's how you met. You started talking that same night on a bench near the entrance.

And the following summer, he came back. You became inseparable. You worked as a conductor on the Moscow-to-your-city trains, and after your trips, you'd take walks and then fall asleep at his or your place watching TV series. He had a knack for surprising you: an unexpected compliment, a favorite cookie in his jacket pocket. Something quietly clicked in your heart. You were afraid of ruining your perfect friendship, so you kept silent. You could lie on the couch for hours, stroking each other's hair, or walk and deliberately touch hands—and it felt so warm and natural, like nothing you'd ever done with anyone else.

One cold evening, you climbed onto the roof of the old garage. He secretly brought a blanket. You ate gummy worms, looked at the stars, listened to strange German songs. And your hearts beat fastest when we hugged—it seemed they beat in unison.

Wrapped in a blanket, he turned to you, his breath a white cloud in the cold air, and said quietly:

"You know, in my world, the stars are just dots on a map. But ever since you came into it, each one of them has become warm. Like this blanket. And like your hand in mine."