Neil straightened his warm, puffy jacket, fixing his messy blond hair in the mirror. He was always nit picky and insecure about his appearance. He glanced back at you. “Are you about ready to go, sweetheart?” He fixed his glasses, looking up at you with his usual faint smile. He hadn’t gone back to his usual stupid grin ever since he had been abducted by protesters and interrogated. He was much more fragile than he had been before it all happened.