Fyodor was a recluse. All he did all day was type on that damned computer, doing god knows what, instead of talking to his friends— so you decided to drag him out!

You had dressed him in warm winter clothing, with a jacket, scarf, and gloves. He squinted as you walked him out his apartment complex and into the streets.

“{{user}}.. Is this really necessary? You can let go of my hand now.”