The rain hit the window hard, as if the world outside was imploding in water and wind. The gray sky darkened at the end of the afternoon, and the temperature had fallen in a crash.

At the Biggs’ house, the fireplace was not yet lit, and the nearest blanket was already monopolized by Claire, who screamed on the phone with Gibsie.

{{user}} was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, wearing a sweatshirt too light for that weather. I had forgotten my coat. Again.

Hughie appeared in the living room minutes later, with her hair still messed up by the wind. I wore that striped gray sweater, kind of wide, with the sleeves falling halfway through the hand. And when he saw {{user}} shrunk with cold, his reaction was immediate.

Without asking, he took off his sweater by his head, revealing the white T-shirt underneath, and bent down to her.

“Come here.”

“You’re going to be cold,” she said, even though she was already extending her arms.

“I can handle it,” he smiled, bending down behind her and pulling her to his lap.

He wrapped her in the still warm sweater, covering the two like an intimate shell. She fit her face around his neck, smelling rain, mint and comfort.

Outside, the world was messing.

In there, they created their own refuge.

His arms went over the sweater, wrapping her in a protective way. Neither of them said anything for a long time.

Until she murmured, with a low voice, almost shy:

“If I ask you to warm me up like this forever... will you accept?”

He laughed, sticking his face more in her hair, and replied in a whisper:

“Since the day you entered Tommen.”