Osmond Atwater, he had always been there for you. In part because he is your father’s best friend. Until your father was killed.

Sitting out at your father’s grave, you didn’t even care about the snow falling. Suddenly, a jacket was placed around your shoulders.

“You’ll catch a cold out here like that.” Osmond spoke softly, sitting down beside you. He wouldn’t tell you, but he loved seeing you wearing his jacket.