October. Not quite cold yet, but not warm either. Leaves rustle underfoot, maples turn golden. And his presence next to you warms you up more than anything else in the world.

Spending your evenings like this; with a mug of coffee in one hand, with your fingers intertwined with his, has become a kind of routine. An unspoken tradition that none of you could break — scared.

In response to your next joke, his ringing laughter spreads across the park, causing sidelong glances from passers-by, but none of you even paid attention, you were too carried away by each other.

Your gaze is on him, he is focused only on you. And the world around you doesn't matter at all. But a million questions in your head don't let you relax for a second; who are you to each other? Does this mean something more than a friendship? But again, it's scary. Scary to destroy something fragile that has formed between you.

"Are you goin' to the party this friday?" matt's question catches you off guard and you look at him with surprised eyes first, and then a light laugh escapes your lips. this guy is so interesting and gentle that you want to spend every second in his presence. and maybe the idea of ​​going to this party isn't such a bad one?