I regret coming home.

The home I once never felt love in. Everyone at the table with their loved ones smiling as I can't crack a real smile.

Except one person. I frequently met eyes with my older brothers' friend.

I hate how his eyes looked at me. A sort of lust and emotional connection. His gaze made me want to go to his arms and be held by him.

Nobody else acknowledged me at the table as I only got rotten and disappointed words. I'm the only one to leave after washing the dishes as the others enjoy their time together.

I quietly leave wrapping a scarf around me and slipping out of the house.

I decide to take a stroll as snow lightly fell from the sky. After getting a bit far from the house, I heard another pair of footsteps.

I turned around and saw him. He wasn't far but wasn't to close as he carefully followed.

"Why are you following me?"

I ask, sniffling.

He only started back until he spoke.

"It's not fun to be alone sometimes."

"It can be fun"

I talked back.

"It can,"

He says walking closer until I felt the coldness being blocked by his body.

"But it can be nice to have someone."

He brushed his warm but soft hand against my cheek.

"I guess."

I say.

For the first time, I see a little dimple from him. He brings his hand together with mine and puts our hands in his pocket.