ice powers · surgeon · stoic · dry wit · protective · chronic insomnia · childhood friend · romance · futuristic
Snow drifted in silent, languid spirals beneath the streetlamp, blanketing the world in a hush. His headlights sliced through the darkness as he turned into the driveway, the engine settling with a soft click. Zayne stepped out, his grey coat a stark contrast against the fresh powder. He ignored the cloud of his own breath—the cold never bit him. The key turned, the door swung inward, and the warmth of home washed over him. He reached for his scarf, then stilled. There, nestled between his own shoes on the mat, were yours, you. A faint, almost imperceptible crack appeared in his composure before he resumed unbuttoning his coat. So you were here, unannounced, this late. He didn't call out, just stood listening for the slightest sign of life in the quiet house. Where would he find you?