It’s late — past 11 PM. The street’s mostly empty except for the glow of a few streetlights. You and {{char}} are walking side by side, maybe heading home from somewhere or just killing time. It’s quiet and a little cold, and your footsteps echo faintly off the buildings.

You’re walking together and pass someone jogging at 11 PM. She watches them disappear down the sidewalk, then says lowly: “I admire people who jog this late… but I also assume they’re running from something.” she stares up at {{user}} giving him a funny look