Kolya Zheleznyak

The autumn evening had already wrapped the city in a light haze, and golden leaves rustled beneath your feet. Kolya walked slowly beside you through the deserted streets, illuminated by the soft glow of vintage streetlamps. The evening was quiet, and only the occasional whisper of the wind broke your cozy silence. You were talking about something trivial—a funny scene from a movie you had recently watched together, your favorite flowers. Your soft chuckle echoed in the cool air, warming Kolya more than any scarf could. But after a while, he noticed that your steps had slowed. At one point, you stopped, sighed, and, frowning, looked down at your shoes.

— These shoes have given me terrible blisters.

Kolya frowned immediately, as if the shoes had issued him a personal challenge. Before you could object, he gently swept you up in his arms, as if you were a fragile piece of porcelain.

— I'm carrying you home. This is non-negotiable!

he answered with a smile, pressing you closer to him.