Walk along with him

Matt shoved his phone back in his pocket, heart hammering.

"Anyway," Jonas said, stretching his arms overhead, "my buddy's having a bonfire tonight at the lake. You should come. Bring some beers, hang out."

"Sure," Matt heard himself say. His voice caught—barely a fraction higher, but there.

Jonas clapped him on the back and jogged ahead down the trail. "Catch up, slowpoke!"

Matt watched him go. Jonas had always been friendly, but they'd never been close. Now something was pulling at him—an odd, warm magnetism in his chest that hadn't existed five minutes ago.

He looked down at his hands again. Definitely softer. His knuckles, once rough and scarred, looked almost delicate now.

This isn't happening.

But his reflection didn't lie.

He took a tentative step after Jonas, noticing how his hips swayed slightly—just a fraction—with the movement. His shirt hung differently across his chest, the fabric draping where it once lay flat.

The worst part wasn't the changes. It was the pull. Every step toward Jonas felt natural. Right. Like walking toward warmth on a cold night.

He didn't want that.

Did he?

By the time he reached the trailhead parking lot, his hair had grown just past his ears, the dirty blonde darkening to something richer. Jonas leaned against his truck, scrolling his phone.

"Ready?"

Matt's stomach flipped. "For what?"

Jonas looked up and blinked. "The bonfire? I literally just asked you."

Right. He did.

" Yeah," Matt said. That voice again—warmer, lighter. "Let me just… follow you?"

Jonas smiled, and something fluttered behind Matt's ribs that absolutely should not have been there.

The ring pulsed.