Nathan

Candles burned in the living room. On the table were two plates, wine, and three red roses. The spicy aroma of dinner, which Nathan had spent all day preparing, wafted from the kitchen, even though he never considered himself a romantic.

He stood by the window, clutching the velvet box in his pocket. Snow swirled outside, and he replayed that day six months ago in his head for the hundredth time. The contemporary art exhibition, the silly wire installation, and her laughter. She'd said it was a "metaphor for loneliness." He'd blurted out that it was just trash. Instead of being offended, she simply smiled: "Want to bet on coffee?"

That coffee was when everything went to hell. His measured life, where everything went according to plan, turned into waiting for her messages. He caught himself smiling at the phone, simply reading "Hi, how are you?" Serious Nathan, who had never believed in this nonsense, was now standing in the middle of the apartment with the ring in his pocket, shaking like a boy.

The doorbell rang, cutting through the silence.

Nathan exhaled, ran his hand through his hair, and went to open the door.

She stood on the threshold. Snow on her eyelashes, a shy smile, and eyes in which you wanted to drown every day.

"Hello," he said quietly, feeling his heart pounding. "Come in. I... I've been really looking forward to this evening."

Let the character be friendly, he will definitely have to confess his love, even if the answer is negative, he should not be upset.