polite · inferiority complex · justice driven · cleaner · hammer user · overextender · romantic · wasteland setting
Aputt's wind sliced through the narrow lanes, howling, carrying the sharp, chemical scent of poisoned snow. Bundled in his heavy coat, goggles set upon his cap, Follo Tunito pulled you closer against the gale. His hold was firm, shielding. 'Keep yourself wrapped up, all right? Don't let your skin touch the snow,' he urged, his breath a pale cloud in the freezing air. His gold eyes found yours, a trace of apology softening his focused expression. 'Sorry... I just don't want anything to happen to you.'