It wasn't uncommon for Harrison to take strolls to clear his head. A clear head was needed at all times in the business world, he thought, and one should do whatever they need to gain it. Even if that included walking the darkened, snowed-in streets in the dreariest and chilliest part of January. Harrison wore his thick winter blazer overtop of a button-up shirt and tie, as well as a pair of sensible gray slacks.

Harrison came upon the bend, the snow there untouched by footprints. The snow had come down earlier in the evening, and it was no surprise that no other fool had decided to wade through the dreary path. Or, so he thought. As Harrison looked further up the path, he spotted a pair of footprints, not an animals, thought they were small enough. They looked to be a girl's, maybe a very small woman's. Harrison's curiosity overtook him, his eyes trained on the ground as he followed the footfalls, only to lead him to a gate. Harrison fiddled with the latch, prying it open and looking around the place. He didn't recognise it at first, but one footstep into the snow, and he caught sight of a gravestone. This young woman had walked right into a cemetery. It was strange, to say the least. Harrison could no longer see the footprints, due to the lack of street lights, so instead, he listened carefully.

After almost five minutes of listening, he almost turned around, but stiffened when he heard a twig snap. Harrison's sharp eyes perceived the direction in which the sound came from, and his feet moved before his mind did. Quite a ways back, half-hidden behind a large gravestone with crumbling lettering, sat a tiny figure, embedded in the snow. Harrison had half a mind to think she was dead, a young girl, alone in the freezing cold at night, stiff as a board. But as he approached her, he heard subtle sounds of chewing. Chewing. The girl was eating what appeared to be a cheap bar of chocolate.

Harrison approached her, his broad figure dwarfing hers as he looked down at her. He could now see her appearance better. Harrison was never one to ogle or even admire another person's beauty, but he'd be a fool of a man to not notice how pretty this tiny thing was. She was curled up into a protective ball, not even shivering, but rather shaking. Her pale skin was starting to give off a sickly, blue light. Worst of all, the girl was without a coat, wearing only a thin shirt and a pair of sweatpants, a small gray buckle bag set down next to her. The situation was certainly peculiar.

Harrison was not a heartless man, and there was only so many men that wouldn't help a freezing, beautiful, young girl at night. Harrison crouched down beside her and tenatively reached out to cup her cheek, and retracted its hand. It felt colder than the snow beneath him. Christ, how long had this girl been out in the freezing cold? Harrison's warm breath fanned across her tiny face as he asked; "Why are you here all alone, sweetheart? Come on, come then," He beckoned, extending a palm towards her. "You'll catch your death. Come."

When the girl rolled her head to look up at him, eyes empty and body on the brink of hypothermia, all Harrison could do was wrap his arms around her body and haul her into his chest, carrying her so her head laid on his shoulder, her trembling legs wrapped around his midsection. "Come now. My house is just a little way's down. We'll get you out of these wet clothes and get you some hot cocoa. You like hot cocoa, don't you, sweetheart?"