Winter evening, or Meeting with a friend

It's a cold winter outside. I'm going to visit my school friend. He invited me just to chat, we haven't sat like this for a long time. After graduation, we dispersed to different universities, and only write off from time to time.

The snow creaks underfoot, the frost pinches the face. Why did he suddenly decide to invite me? Probably, on this winter evening, he would have found many friends who were ready to have a good time in his company. Even at school, we talked with him, but very rarely.

A light winter wind blows at my back. He had many friends who were closer than me. So why did he decide to invite me? I don't know, but I don't mind. It was always very easy with him. He smiles often. You can talk with him about anything, even the most difficult things, and it will still be pleasant. He dresses modestly, although he is not from a poor family. Follows himself.

A car passed by, the first one I've been walking in. The yellow headlights changed to red and disappeared around the corner. When I sat down at his desk, he always smelled of something sweet and tasty. I don't know much about smells, but I wanted to plunge into his thick strands of hair to enjoy him. Not that I'm gay, but I just liked his smell and smile.

Somewhere in the distance, dogs are barking. The starry sky is covered with clouds. It was just nice to look at, I don't know why. Sometimes I looked for a very long time. And when he turned around and noticed my curious look, he always smiled at me with his disarming and sincere smile. I don't know if he smiled the same way at others, but I'm not interested.

A car drove by in the next street. A light came on in the window of one of the houses. There are evergreen flowers on the windowsill inside. They will not feel this frosty cold, they will not go through freezing blizzards, they will always be warm, this is their happiness and misfortune. Do they appreciate this warmth if they have not seen the cold?

I won't be able to get to his house anytime soon. I could have booked a taxi, but I preferred to walk, despite the seemingly bad weather. But only at first glance. The main advantage of my way is that I can walk and think about anything. Go, go, go... Bad weather becomes familiar, you begin to notice the details that are hidden to those who ride a taxi. This native winter, native creaking snow underfoot, native stars in the sky, native barking of dogs in the distance, native flowers in the luminous windows of houses.

Why am I going to him? I'm just bored? I could freeze and surf the Internet all evening preparing for exams, and, while drinking hot sweet tea with lemon, look at the blinking Christmas tree in the corner of my cozy room. But instead, I go through the frost to the other end of the city to a man with whom I am not even particularly friends. We only exchange a few messages a couple of times a week, like "how are you" and "what are you doing." He sends me some emoji. Even here he smiles. I don't attach much importance to this.

And so I go to his house. Standing near the fence, I look up at the windows and see that a light is on in his room on the second floor. He sits at the table and does something. When I knocked on the gate, he somehow jerked sharply and turned to the window. He saw me, and now he is waving his hand for me to come in.

And now, for reasons unknown to me, my chest began to beat faster. I don't know why. When I enter his cozy house, he is already descending the stairs. It's hot in his house, so he's only wearing a T-shirt and short white shorts. He greets and shakes my hand, smiling sweetly, I answer him the same, and while I undress, he is interested in how I got there and what's new with me.

We go up a narrow staircase, but because neither he nor I want to let each other go ahead, we walk side by side, and again I hear that same sweet aroma. It will be necessary to somehow ask what kind of perfume he has, and why he uses them before meeting with an old friend. He probably just likes to smell good. When I entered his room, I felt the fresh air from the window gently blowing on my face, wrapping around my skin, and now it does not seem frosty at all.

We sat on his bed, talking about various topics, and I noticed how comfortable his room was furnished. There was a table near the window, on which was a small piece Christmas tree, decorated with multi-colored balls and garlands. Opposite the table was a massive bookcase. There were many new books there.

It was warm, but at the same time fresh, like a summer morning, when the sun is already warming your body, and a light cool breeze gives that special feeling that is difficult to put into words if you are not a poet. And I'm not a poet. I'm just an ordinary guy, a student who writes mediocre stories from time to time, and now I'm sitting on a soft couch next to a school friend who... Ahem. Sorry, I was staring at his shorts. It seemed to me that they became more voluminous than usual. Wind, apparently. So what am I on about? Oh yes, we are talking about something, I listen to his words, listen to the cool summer breeze, listen to his sweet smell, listen to the warmth of his body. He seems to accidentally touch me. I look at him, and I don’t see a smile in his eyes, he is tense and worried about something. He wants to tell me something.

- I don't know how to start, but I really like you. The way you smile, your look, your smell, your smile. And I do not know what you will answer me, but if I did not say this, I would continue to be unhappy.

That was what I wanted to tell him, but what I didn't dare to do first. What he read in my eyes, but what I could not read. I pressed my lips to his without a word, as if I had done this for the thousandth time, although in fact it was my first kiss. The first and the best. I feel his warmth, his arms wrap around my neck, I bury myself in his thick strands of hair: what I dreamed about, but was afraid to admit to myself. He kisses my neck. I look into his eyes and see the same thing that I saw in them before, but did not notice: joy, happiness and love.

What happened next, I remember only in short moments, moments. As sparks from fire fly in different directions and disappear, turning into shadows and dust, so life is just a spark that will die out in a moment, but from which the grass around can ignite, and the fire will burn further, passing through centuries, and from this fire, new sparks will be born, each of which will be able to lay this fire further.

But for now, only his hot breath, deep groans, gentle kisses, his hot body and these eyes, which reflect that fire of joy and happiness that will save all mankind, exist for me.

I no longer care what the people walking down the street now think when they hear the groans of two guys coming from the room on the second floor.

- Thank you, that was great!

A heavy warm blanket, gentle hands and a gentle look, full of happiness and quiet serene joy, spoke more than a thousand words!

A blizzard raged outside the window, calming the mind with its music, and sometimes looked at us through the half-open window and threw snow at us. Today, the graceful Blizzard in her ice crown and snowy cloak danced her waltz, but tomorrow the Sun will surely rise and illuminate the troubled earth with her calm and joyful look.

Thanks for reading! Author - Mykola Kuznec. Forgive me for possible inaccuracies in the text. The original was written in Russian, and translated into English in Google translator.
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by Mykola

Email: [email protected]