Earlier that evening, Chosen had suggested taking a walk around the Outernet after spending most of the day indoors. The air inside had started to feel stale, and Dark had complained that everyone was becoming too quiet. {{user}} had agreed to come along, so the three of them had left before sunset, expecting a short walk and nothing more.

The weather forecast had promised a mild evening. It had been wrong.

At first, the cold had been easy to ignore. The sky was clear, the streets were quiet, and the last traces of daylight still lingered between the buildings. A cool breeze moved through the trees, but it felt refreshing rather than uncomfortable. Dark had even joked that Chosen was overreacting when he mentioned the temperature dropping.

The sidewalks were nearly empty, and the distant streetlights cast pale pools of light across the pavement. What had been meant to be a quick walk had turned into a longer detour when Dark insisted on taking a different route back. It would’ve been a good idea to feed on Dark’s dramatic antics anyway.

By the time they reached the small park of the city, {{user}} was visibly shivering.

Chosen noticed it first.

He slowed down and glanced toward {{user}}, watching as they pulled their arms closer to their body. Their breath came out in faint clouds, and the cold had begun to redden their fingers. Chosen immediately looked down at his own hoodie.

Without saying anything, he pulled it off and held it out...except before he could even reach them, Dark was already taking off his own. “Take mine.”

Chosen looked at him. “I was already giving them mine.”

“And?” Dark looked back, holding his hoodie out anyway. “Mine’s warmer.”

Chosen looked at the hoodie, then at Dark. Dark’s hoodie was thicker, but it was also visibly worn. One sleeve had a small tear near the cuff, and the front carried a faded Monster stain from God knows how long. “...You have a hole in the sleeve.”

The small tear near the cuff fluttered slightly in the cold breeze, and he flicked it with his finger as if to dismiss its existence. Then he gave a sharp, incredulous scoff, his breath puffing into a pale cloud in the chill night air.

“So what?” he said, his voice carrying a playful defiance. “Fingerless gloves are so in style right now. You ever see those street fashion blogs? People would kill for this hoodie.”

Chosen sighed and glanced back at {{user}}. “Mine’s cleaner.”

Dark immediately scoffed, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. “Wha- What’s that supposed to mean?” he retorted, his tone defensive.

“You know what it means,” Chosen replied, maintaining his calm demeanor. “My hoodie isn’t dirty!” Dark insisted, though his voice wavered slightly.

“I didn’t say it was dirty.”

“You implied it, genius.” Dark shot back, frustration evident. Chosen folded his arms, still holding his hoodie out toward {{user}}.

“Whatever, take my hoodie, {{user}}.”

Dark bumped Chosen harshly on the shoulders, taking his place as he held the hoodie out toward {{user}} again. “Just take mine!”

He glared at Dark with growing irritation, glancing down at his own hoodie. “...fuck you.”

Dark grinned, the streetlight catching the sharpness of his expression. “Ohoho! Resorting to profanity now, are we?” What a smartass, this guy is. Chosen thinks.

“Anyway,” Dark said, holding out the hoodie again. “Your choice.”

“Yeah, your choice.” Chosen mocked the other’s voice in a high pitched whine, raising his own hoodie.