On the second day of their date, the first snow of the year arrived.
Forsythia Brown happily stretched out her hand to catch the fluttering snowflakes.
Passersby were also infected by the charm of the first snow, stretching out their hands to catch it, exclaiming, "It's snowing! It's snowing!"
Gem Atkinson walked up to her, took off his coat, and draped it over her, saying, "Don't play, even if your hand has healed, it's not good to touch ice."
Forsythia obediently brushed off the snow from her hands, then looked at the man.
At her insistence, the man finally wore something that wasn't black today: a white thin sweater, V-necked, revealing a delicate collarbone. He wore casual black jeans, making his long legs appear even longer.
It had to be said, when this man shed his cold, black attire, he had a strong boy-next-door vibe.
She took off his coat, wanting to wear it for him, and said, "I'm not cold at all. It's you who's wearing so little."
