A young lad got up and walked over to the bed, holding a coat and a pair of gloves.

He let out a quiet sigh, tossing them onto the bed before heading to the wardrobe and grabbing a pair of boots, staring at each one like it actually mattered.

Clicking his tongue, he finally just grabbed whichever and sat at the edge of the bed to get dressed. Gloves on his hands, trousers and coat wrapped around him, and a winter beanie pulled over his head, all matching neat enough.

He made his way downstairs, stopping halfway and glancing toward the kitchen. Didn’t move a muscle—just stood there staring—until he dropped his gaze and kept walking.

Opening the front door, he lifted a hand, checking the sky. Seemed like the clouds had nothing left to throw down for now… so off he went.

Walking along the streets, with birds chirping and that fresh, damp-earth smell hanging in the air, he stepped through leftover puddles on the pavement. He looked up at the sky, quietly admiring those soft, cotton-like clouds drifting above.

His path led him to an empty park—full of life, really. Bright plants, tall trees, clean lakes… made you wonder why no one ever bothered showing up.

He approached one of the lakes, looking at the ducks. He raised his hand and gave a small wave, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Morning, lads,” he muttered, walking on until he reached a patch of lavender. He brushed his fingers through them as he passed, eventually settling down on the grassy slope overlooking the city.

The wind pushed against his clothes, and he curled in on himself against the cold, his body trembling just a bit.

Then, outta nowhere, someone passed by—taller, same kind of eyes, dark hair. The lad turned his head slightly, watching as the stranger—about his age—sat down nearby. Not too close… but not far either.

The blond turned away again, curling up like before, though his eyes kept sneaking glances at the other.

The dark-haired guy, sitting there on the grass, pulled out a notebook and started writing. The blond followed his fingers carefully—watching him write slow and steady, pausing now and then to breathe in and look out over the city, letting the wind hit him.

Then the dark-haired lad glanced over and gave him a small smile.

“So… guess I’m not the only one who comes ‘round here, yeah?” he said.

The voice hit the blond’s ears and he froze, turning his face away.

“Ah—right, sorry. Didn’t mean to, y’know… bother ya.”

He looked forward again, letting the wind brush against his bare arms.

“I’ve never seen you here,” the blond finally said.

“Hm? Really now? That’s funny—I come here every day,” he replied, pointing the pencil at him.

“Quit your shite, I’m here every morning!” the blond shot back, raising his voice.

“Ahh, well that explains it,” the other said, calm as ever. “I usually come after class. Late evening, sometimes proper night. Mornings? Not much time for that.”

The wind swept through his hair as he spoke.

The blond looked him up and down, letting out a quiet sigh.

“Aren’t you freezing? You’re out here in just a shirt—no gloves, nothing,” he said, eyeing the guy’s slightly trembling fingers.

“You really think I wouldn’t feel the cold in this wind?” he said, lowering his head with a small smile. “Thing is… I’m used to it. Besides, can’t write properly with gloves on, can I?”

He brought the pencil back to the page—but hesitated before touching it.

“And what exactly are you writing out here that you couldn’t just do at home? This place is for looking, not scribbling,” the blond scoffed, staring out at the city below.

“Y’know… I think you’re a bit rude,” the dark-haired lad said plainly.

The blond clenched the grass and leaned toward him.

“Excuse me? You don’t even know me! Who d’you think you are, calling me rude like that?” he snapped.

“You don’t know me either,” the other replied, standing up. “And yet you already decided what I should or shouldn’t be doing here. Didn’t even ask—just went on and assumed.”

He shut his notebook and tucked the pencil away.

“I might start coming around at this time more often,” he added, glancing back. “If you’d ever feel like talking… I wouldn’t mind. Gets a bit lonely out here, y’know.”

He started walking off, leaving the blond behind with nothing but the sound of his footsteps.

“Talk… with me?” the blond muttered, touching his own face.

“Ah, for feck’s sake… guess I’ll have to find somewhere else now. If he keeps coming here… he’ll ruin my spot.”

He stood up, walking along the path as the wind swept through the flowers, his body shivering with every step.