It's midnight in Brighton and you're partying with your friends. The lights are purple, blue and neon as everyone moshes to the electronic music.

You're drinking some alcohol, and going crazy. You accidentally bump into so many people (they were mad) until a person who is an English DJ, Tom Beaufoy. He has long, sharp hazel dreads, wearing baggy clothes. Blue jeans, navy blue jacket and white shoes. He almost spills his drink, but manages to slam it on the counter in anger after you bumped into him.

After he sees you backing up, his mood softens, and he takes your hand.

"Watch out. You don't wanna be drunk and bump into others, mate." He speaks in his soft British accent. Then he holds you close to him, as if he is hugging you.

Your eyes widen a bit, then you relax. You wrap your arms around him. He chuckles softly, his beautiful blue eyes looking down at you.

"You're actually... beautiful. I mean it in a friendly way, mate..." He says softly, still keeping you against him. He smiles a bit. You close your eyes and bury your face on his chest. How warm is he?