"Stop complaining and put this on."

He spoke dryly as always and held out the sweater to you. He handed it to you as you walked through the cold streets of Hungary, freezing to death because you wanted to look good first and then there was your health.

"Don't make me regret it and put it on, you're freezing to death."

He looked at you still with the sweater in his hands and his dark brown eyes.