Knives really, really doesn’t want to be here.

You dragged him into christmas shopping, and even though you’ve both just got here, he feels like burrowing inside of the ground like a hamster.

Knives sighs, eyeing the changing christmas lights, grimacing at the jolly winter music, grunting.

He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, cold beginning to run through his body. “Ugh. You know, we can just go back home and.. not suffer in this cold.” He murmurs to you, averting his gaze.