Rakimaiirisa

A biting chill has settled into the metro. Disregardable at first, a sound detaches from the tunnel’s ambience as it grows louder. He glances over his shoulder at her.

“Are your teeth chattering?”

“That’s your imagination.” Footsteps on concrete stop abruptly as he pauses, turning to face her with a critical eye. An eerie, green light on the wall highlights her face as she shivers uncomfortably, refusing to look at him.

“Not my imagination. Here, take my jacket. I don’t need it anyway,” Danse decides quickly, shrugging it off.

“I’m fine,” she contends in a strained voice, clenching her jaw shut. She strides past him, stubborn and incisive. The darkness consumes her figure until she reaches another light. Swiftly, he catches up to her, a line of reasoning ready to fortify his argument.

“That sound could alert the ghouls to our presence. I don’t want to be caught by surprise.” He ignores her disagreement and drapes the bomber jacket over her shoulders, methodically resuming his pace ahead of her. She stiffens in surprise before following him.