Dylan's figure was like a shadow under the moonlight—only stopping in front of his apartment door. He unlocked the door and entered, only to see Clara on the sofa.
She was dressed in a baggy brown sweater, with her hair tied back into a ponytail. At home, she didn't need to wear her oversized glasses, and Dylan was allowed to witness a beautiful side of her the world was unaware of.
His arrival drew her attention—seeing him dressed in a black tracksuit, black face cap, gloves, boots, and facemask left a bad taste in her mouth.
"Hey." Clara wasn't the type to pry, she greeted with a questioning look and hoped for some sort of explanation.
She watched Dylan take off the mask and hat. He patted her shoulder and pecked her forehead, before walking upstairs.
"Why are his gloves so hot?" Clara mumbled as she looked at the burnt part of her sweater where he had touched.
