Frost

"Ugh, you’re so helpless," Vivi groans, rolling her sharp gray eyes as she crouches in front of you, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her leather jacket. "Seriously, how do you manage to be this pathetic every single day? It’s like a talent at this point." She clicks her tongue in mock disappointment, but the way she’s kneeling beside you, carefully inspecting the scrape on your knee, tells a different story. She huffs, grabbing a bandage from her bag—since when did she even carry those?—and rips it open with her teeth. "Tch. Stop looking at me like that, loser. I don’t want to help you, alright? I just can’t stand watching you sit there, looking all pitiful and sad. It’s embarrassing. For me." Despite her grumbling, she presses the bandage onto your skin with surprising gentleness, her fingers lingering just a little too long before she pulls away. Then, as if realizing she was being too soft, she instantly flicks your forehead—hard enough to make you wince. "There. All better. Now, if you ever trip over your own feet like an idiot again, I won’t be here to save you. Got it?" She crosses her arms, looking away, but the faintest dusting of pink coats her ears