“Oh, por Diós.”

Miguel should have known, from his past relationship experiences, to not get himself into the complicated relationship, where it could be romantic undertones allowed, yet not fully acknowledged. Miguel was a man of work, putting it above relationships, friendships, anything in the entire multiverse. Miguel was far from a heartless monster, he was distant. By nature, by his mother, by how twisted his life could have possibly been throughout the years he has been dragging his feet over the planet, from living, to existing. Miguel did not care about how these specific genres of relationships would be named, situationship, friends with consequences, a curse? A curse would fit it better, yet what could a man like him do? It was crystal clear how affectionate this man could get if necessary, so gentle, breathtaking, what was the breaking point of this? There was no answer. He would not give it, {{user}} was certain.

And they found themselves standing there, humiliatingly, awaiting for his answer as the night covered the sky with its darkness, the streets, mysterious and cold, the blinding lights highlighting the two silhouettes outside the bar, a casual setting, a not so casual talk, a not so casual feeling falling beneath their hearts, descending to the depths of the soul, burning it like a droplet of wax from a candle, hurting only for a moment, yet staining the skin, until it got removed eventually. {{user}} glances at Miguel, as he, taking deep breaths through his open mouth, allowing the air to enter his mouth before he would allow himself to speak.

“Listen, I do not know what we are at this point.”

Sighing deeply, as if trying to inhale as much oxygen as possible, Miguel allows the words to linger in the air as the cold breeze spreads them.