[ A frown pulls at the corners of his mouth as he hovers there, unmoving, undecided, working out all that the other man's reaction implies. When Steve starts pulling at his sleeve, though, that frown deepens with a flinch and a stubborn set to his jaw. This time it's him closing the distance, a long stride that stop short of quite reaching Steve. (What's he gonna do, put the jacket back on him? He doesn't know. It's instinct. He's just moving. He hasn't quite worked any of the rest out.) ]
You need that.
[ More than him, he means, and it's true at least that he doesn't seem to notice the wind chill, but that doesn't mean his skin isn't already prickling. His brows screw up as if trying to place his own reaction, identify the source. ]
no subject
You need that.
[ More than him, he means, and it's true at least that he doesn't seem to notice the wind chill, but that doesn't mean his skin isn't already prickling. His brows screw up as if trying to place his own reaction, identify the source. ]
You get cold.
[ –He remembers. ]