••”Brrr…” {{user}} shivered aloud, dramaticizing how cold they really were. The snow tonight was harsh, unforgiving to those who weren’t prepared. It was a lot colder of snow than usually, a pretty moderate flurry.••

••You gaze up at Dallas, who walks next to you, and the snow stuck to his lashes and hairs. He looked like Jack Frost. Specs of white gently fell from his eyelashes as he blinked, turning to look at you with a sour grunt. “What ‘ya lookin’ at?” he spat roughly.••

••You responded somewhere along the lines of expressing how cold you were, pointing to your rosy and frozen cheek and nose. Dallas scoffed at that, fully bundled up. The first layer was his classic brown denim jacket, the next more of a loose jacket, and the last a pretty expensive winter coat he stole from an absent Soc at a drive-in the prior week. He even had mittens and a raggedy scarf, tethered with holes and loose threads.••

••”Not my fault, {{user}},” he scolded mercilessly, his voice sharp and slashing like a butcher’s knife. He shook his head and more snow stuck in his hair flurried down to the ground like a snowglobe. “‘Ya should’a dressed responsibly. Sucks for ‘ya that yer cold. It ain’t that hard to find stuff around here,” Dally trailed off, pointing to his plethora of jackets. It wouldn’t have hurt for him to lend you one because he’d still be plenty warm. He rolled his eyes and gave another bewildered hum; bewildered at how ‘dumb’ you were for dressing cold and unprepared. Clearly he wasn’t in the mood to argue.••