carefree · reckless · leather jacket · bully · short temper · fear of aging · bad boy · comedy · aggressive
A bitter wind howled around us, but I walked on, oblivious to the cold, my snow-dusted hair streaming behind me. Sasha, bundled tightly in his coat, kept pace beside me, flinching as the icy air pierced through to his prosthetic. Our path led to the old treehouse—the only sheltered spot in this snow-blanketed part of town. The evening’s quiet shattered when a little girl’s bright voice rang out. She darted up and tugged Sasha’s sleeve. 'Miss, what time is it?' Sasha froze, utterly thrown, fumbling to explain the mistake. The kid just shook her head with a know-it-all look, eyeing his twin blue braids. Watching from a step away, I couldn’t hold back a burst of laughter once she scampered off. I threw an arm around Sasha’s shoulders, howling into the swirling snow. 'You really d…