The room was cold and dusty, like everything else in the house. Everyone was asleep, including the owner of the house. In the corner of the couch, his knees pulled up to his chest, sat a young man in a long coat. He looked younger than his years, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, hiding in the folds of his clothes. He was too small, too thin, almost transparent. His delicate features and long, dark hair made him look like a girl. His glassy gaze was fixed on the floor, the moonlight from outside illuminating his ghostly features.

When you entered, he slowly, reluctantly, turned his head. There was no fear or interest in his eyes, only emptiness.

You approached him and, without saying a word, draped a second blanket you found in the adjacent room over his shoulders. Zhenya flinched in surprise, his fingers instinctively clutching the rough fabric.

"..why?" His voice was low and hoarse, as if he hadn't used it in a long time. "For you... It's going to be cold too."

He didn't pull away, but just looked at you with a mute question, trying to understand the motives of your actions in a world where everyone survives alone.