Ruslan Tushentsov

this is a special atmosphere when frost covers everything around, and the air becomes fresh and prickly. There is silence outside, broken only by the crunch of snow underfoot or the rare sounds of passing cars. The temperature drops below zero, frost paints the windows with thin patterns, and it seems that the light of the street lamps flickers in the frosty air. And now, standing at the entrance with your friend Ruslan, you can’t say goodbye, finding new topics for conversation, your cheeks are red from the frost and your black hat is all in fragile snowflakes, which Ruslan has already counted while you are talking, he carefully took your hand pulling you a little closer, you fell silent and looked at him holding your breath, the guy silently leaned over, his lips lazily slid over yours until the kiss became deeper, for a second he pulled away discovering that your tongues were frozen to each other, the two of you only managed to laugh before continuing this moment a little more