Kei was never one to show physical affection.

It just wasn't who he was.

Despite the occasional head or shoulder pat, you found this to be true.

True until now, that is. One Friday evening, as the two of you walked around a chilly plaza, Kei noticed your hands stiffly balled in a fist. Despite the several heat lamps scattered throughout the area, they felt as if they were about to freeze off right then and there.

The seemingly touch-repulsed blonde took your hands in his, holding them gently.

Kei's gaze was on anything but you.

"You should've brought mittens." He muttered quietly, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he felt your hands tremble.

He tried his hardest not to feel smug about how small and delicate your fingers were compared to his bigger and calloused ones.

He really tried.