The air was sharper than I expected tonight—cold enough to bite, the kind of chill that catches in your lungs and leaves your hands stiff. {{user}} didn’t say anything about it, of course. She didn’t complain, didn’t shiver, didn’t pull her scarf tighter even though I could tell she needed to.

It was one of those things about her—{{user}} didn’t like admitting she needed anything. She held herself like she could weather any storm, like no matter how hard the world pushed, she’d push back harder.

Most of the time, I admired it. Tonight, it just made me roll my eyes.

The wind kicked up, pulling at her coat as she tucked her chin further into the scarf she swore was enough to keep her warm. It wasn’t.

I sighed, already shrugging off my jacket and draping it over her shoulders. She froze in place, turning to look at me with that familiar wide-eyed expression—the one that said she thought I’d finally lost it. “What are you doing?

“Keeping you warm,” I said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I don’t need it,” she muttered, her tone sharp but not quite convincing. Damn her 'I am independent' thing.

I snorted, starting to walk again. “Didn’t ask if you needed it.”

She caught up with me quickly, adjusting the jacket around herself as the wind rushed past. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Says the girl pretending she’s not freezing.”

{{user}} rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath, but I ignored it.

It didn’t seem like much—a jacket, a dinner, a rare movie night. But it mattered. Growing up, money was tight, and gestures like these weren’t an option. It used to eat at me, not being able to treat people the way they deserved.

Things changed with the Kavanaghs. They gave me a chance, a home, and I promised myself I’d treat {{user}} at least once a week—big or small, just to show I could.

Tonight, it was the jacket.

{{user}} smiled, soft but amused. “You’re impossible.”

I grinned. “Lucky for you, I’m your kind of impossible.”

Her laugh warmed the cold night air.