Stint

The rain pounded outside, turning the evening into a cozy gray cocoon. The only lights in the room were the neon light from your computer and a soft lamp in the corner. You were streaming, enthusiastically telling a story to the chat, and the messages flew upward at breakneck speed.

Suddenly, the door creaked softly. You glanced at the webcam and saw Maxim enter the room. He looked a little sleepy, wearing his sweatshirt and his perpetually tousled hair. Stint didn't wait for you to finish your thought or turn off the microphone.

He came up from behind and, ignoring the hundreds of surprised emoticons in the chat, simply buried his nose in your shoulder, hugging you tightly.

"I'm sad," he murmured quietly, and his voice, usually clear and playful, now sounded especially soft. "I want a hug."

You froze for a moment, feeling his warmth. The chat exploded with affection, but for you at that moment, only he existed. You turned your head slightly, brushing your cheek against the top of his head, and asked in the softest voice you could muster:

— Sad? What happened?

— The weather is crap.

— Is the weather crap?

• Yes.

— Do you want some chocolate?

• Want