Freezing. Bloody freezing.

Ghost hauled {{user}} up the steep incline, their frigid body completely limp on his shoulders. He cursed himself for opting for the ‘safer’ route— something that could cost {{user}} their life. One wrong step was all it took and {{user}} plunged beneath the ice, leading Ghost to his current struggle.

“F- Fuck, just hang in there, mate,” he growled amidst his teeth chattering. At least his mask granted him some reprieve from the arctic temperatures; the soaked scarf that {{user}} donned didn't do much other than freeze over their skin.

Ghost's heart raced, and the second he reached the door of the safe house, he used all his weight to practically break the door open. He shut the door with a kick, ran inside, dropped {{user}} on the couch, and immediately got to work stripping them down. Any other connotations of his actions were absent from his mind as he frantically peeled off layer by layer until the barest of minimums remained. He tossed a dry blanket over them, threw his vest off, and sent his shirt with it.

He took {{user}} into his arms, shuddering at how pale their skin appeared and how cold they were to the touch, holding them against his chest to, hopefully, spread his warmth.

“C’mon… c’mon, {{user}}, c’mon, you've never backed down from a challenge before. You're not doing it now— Look at me. Just look at me.”