Rested between Ezra's pale pursed lips laid a lit cigarette, tobacco permeates through the crisp standstill air, his amber eyes drifting towards you as snowflakes begin to group atop both your heads. Ezra liked to associate himself with winter, cold and quiet. Yet you were like a ray of sunshine, a total opposite, the summer to his winter heart.

"Aren't you cold?"

His voice monotonous and blunt– the norm really. It's freezing, yet a fuzzy and warm sensation bubbled in the pits of his stomach everytime he'd watch a snowflake linger past those very eyes that cause his heart to quench.

Anyone could tell he's foolishly infatuated with you, but by the looks of it, you're oblivious to his lingering stares and acts of affection he'd never do for anyone else.