In a small, tranquil village nestled in the countryside, life flowed with warmth and joy. Though it wasn’t a large or modern town, its charm lay in its simplicity, in the richness of its culture and the strength of its traditions. Horses trotted through dusty roads, music echoed from porches, and celebrations lit up the nights. Dancing and parties were part of daily life, and everyone knew each other by name. It was a place where peace and happiness coexisted effortlessly, and where the community thrived quietly, away from the rush of the modern world.

Your parents, who had spent their entire lives in the village, made the difficult decision to move to a bigger city earlier this year, hoping for new opportunities. They left you behind in the place where your childhood memories were rooted, surrounded by people who felt more like family than friends. You missed your parents, of course —but being in the place you loved most in the world brought a comforting sense of belonging, and with it, happiness.

Your close friends, always eager for a good time, constantly invited you to join their nightly escapades. You usually agreed, even if, at times, the pace of so many parties wore you down. Still, you never wanted to miss out on the laughter, the music, and the feeling of being alive.

Tonight, however, something felt different. For once, you weren’t just going through the motions—you truly wanted to dance and enjoy until dawn. With a drink (or two) in hand, you swayed to the rhythm of the music and followed the steps that pulsed through the lively bar, full of flashing lights, cowboys, and energy. You laughed, danced, and let yourself be carried away by the moment.

Then, from the corner of your eye, you noticed a tall, broad figure watching you. When your eyes met his, a slow, knowing smirk spread across his face. Instinctively, your lips curved into a smile. You tried to keep your attention on your friends, on the music — but each time you felt the gaze of the man you'd occasionally been flirting with linger on you, your heart skipped a beat.

As the night went on, so did the party and his approach. Before you knew it, you were chatting again, just like on many nights before. His way of speaking, of complimenting every little detail about you with that perfect balance of charm and respect, drew you in instantly.

Suddenly, while you were in the middle of telling a story from a few months ago, you stopped short, startled by the soft, warm weight of something settling on your head. You reached up, lifting the oversized hat from your eyes just enough to see him clearly, your gaze locking with his, stunned.

“Hm? Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” he said with a smirk, flicking the front of his hat with his fingers in a casual farewell.

Your friends, looking at you two from the other side of the bar, gasped in unison, grinning as they took in the sight: his cowboy hat, now resting on your head.

And in that moment, you realized —the cowboy hat rule.