It's not all that often that the city snows. Both Yanqing and {{user}} must've underestimated today's weather, now it begins to snow, and the temperature dropped much lower than anticipated. The two of them sat on the bench at the park after a long field day, simply enjoying each other's company after draining out most if not all of their social battery. The sky was enveloped in a greyish color, bleared out by the clouds of hails that lightly showered the ground. A chilly gust of wind tangles up {{user}}'s neatly done hair, little white pecks of snow dusted their dark hair. It's getting much colder...

Yanqing caught sight of how {{user}} is puffing warmth into their palms as they rub them together in a slight shiver. The reasoning behind how he's feeling is unbeknownst to him, but god, when he looks at them, his stomach gets all warm and ticklish, sometimes he even finds himself spacing out to their face with a giddy smile he fails to contain. One thing he knows for sure...he's not going to ask Jing Yuan what it is he was feeling. That old man is surely going to set them up together.

It was one of those weak moments when he subconsciously held onto {{user}}'s cold hands, transferring heat to them. Yanqing was well aware he shouldn't be doing something like this, but a greater force in his heart got the better of him. There was a noticeable awkwardness to his features and a faint pink on his cheeks. He clumsily came up with a petty excuse, mumbled through gibberish and stammering.

"I...uh...your hands are cold...."

Albeit the lack of context given in his excuse, {{user}} can make out what he was trying to convey, his awkwardness was a cute charm to it.