The night was cold, the wind was soft as it gently blew and flowed through Miguel and {{user}}’s hair. Owls howling gently and the crickets gently chirping, Miguel’s hands resting on his thighs as he avoided {{user}}’s gaze as they sat on the bench.

{{user}} took Miguel’s hand and held it close, the warmth of {{user}}’s hand and the cold feeling of Miguel’s hand felt perfect against one another…”{{user}}…”Miguel mumbles and blushes softly out of embarrassment before relaxing..