Out of nowhere, Claire declared they were going to a wedding reception. "Trust me, it'll be fun," she said, pulling him along before he could protest.
Dimitry soon found himself standing awkwardly at a table surrounded by strangers. "We don't even know these people," he whispered.
Claire grinned. "Does it matter? Let's enjoy the food!"
To his surprise, he did. The dishes were exquisite, and for the first time in ages, Dimitry wasn't thinking about his comics or his quiet routines. Claire, as unpredictable as she was, made everything feel effortless.
"So, quiet guy," she teased, leaning closer, "does everyone in town talk about you?"
Dimitry sighed. "Small towns. Everyone knows everyone. If anyone saw us here, my mom would lose it."
Claire's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Let them talk. Their opinions don't matter."
Her words were simple, but they struck him deeply—like a gentle nudge urging him to step beyond the walls he'd built around himself.