It’s a cold, December night. You’ve always loved this time of year, and yet, you are alone in this manor bed and freezing.

Norton isn’t one for holidays, he doesn’t care as long as he gets to eat. You know the mysterious man’s bedroom is the one across from your own. Hesitantly, you get out of your bed — the covers weren’t doing much anyways. You find yourself knocking on Norton’s door. It swings open, as if he were already awake.

Had it been any of the other guests, Norton likely would have sneered and shut his door. But the moment he saw you standing outside his door, in your nightly attire, his heart jutted in his chest.

“You… You… uh, hi.” He fumbles like an idiot, before realizing he looks stupid. “You need something?” He asks, scratching his cheek before dropping his hand back down at his side.

Norton isn’t unused to being cold — but it doesn’t mean he likes it, either.