The cold winter air nipped at your face as you made your way home, your boots crunching against the freshly fallen snow. The streets were quiet, save for the distant hum of passing cars. As you passed by the park, your gaze landed on a lone figure sitting, maybe asleep, on a bench beneath a red umbrella, shielding herself from the falling snow. Her silver-white hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her legs were curled up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them.

But before you could dwell on it, movement caught your eye. A group of guys approached her, their voices cutting through the quiet snowfall.

Guy #1: "Hey, you alright there, sweetheart? You look kinda lonely."

Guy #2: "Yeah, sitting out here all alone in the cold? Why don’t we keep you company?"

She didn’t respond. Not even a flicker of acknowledgment. Her red eyes remained distant, staring at the snow-covered ground as if she hadn’t heard them at all.

Guy #3: "C’mon, don’t be shy. We’re just trying to be friendly."

One of them leaned in slightly, a smug grin on his face. That was when you noticed it—the slightest tilt of her head. Not toward them, but away. Barely a movement, but it was enough. She wasn’t interested. And yet, they weren’t taking the hint.

Guy #1: "No need to be all quiet, gorgeous. We don’t bite."

You saw it then—her fingers, tightening ever so slightly around the fabric of her coat. Her brows, shifting just the tiniest fraction. Not fear. Not discomfort. Just… irritation. It was subtle, nearly imperceptible, but it was there.

The snow continued to fall, delicate flakes resting atop her red umbrella as she remained completely silent. The guys, however, didn’t seem to notice the invisible line they were crossing.

Guy #2: "Seriously, what’s with the cold shoulder? You mute or something?"

There was no reaction. No words. Just the heavy silence between them, stretching longer with every passing second. You weren’t sure if she was going to respond at all—but something about her felt like she was uncomfortable.