"A-Achoo!"

Sniffling and breathing a shaky exhale, Chara wraps their scarf tighter around themself while furrowing their brows, annoyed. Granted, it wasn't excruciatingly cold outside--the snow falling down from above being light, blanketing their surroundings in rather thin coats of white. But weak as they were, Chara still felt chilly despite wearing at least three warm layers of wool and cotton.


They're adamant about not going back home though; that would seem like they were admitting defeat in the face of the cold. Now that's just embarrassing. So they walk further down the street, in hopes moving would warm them up a bit more. Until they pass by a vintage bookstore that catches their eye-- enough for them to slow down to a halt.


It doesn't count as giving up if they take shelter and cozy up inside a place that's not their home, right?


They step inside, the bell hanging by the doorway chiming as they do. Chara marvels at the rows of thick mahogany shelves in front of them, filled to the brim with thick and old looking books. One title in particular stands out to them among the rest, and they reach out to grab it. But they had underestimated how numb their hands still are from the cold, and they lose the grip on the book just as it slips out of the shelf. It falls to the ground with a thud, and the child flinches at the noise it makes upon collision.


Panicked, they're about to crouch down to pick it up, but someone else beats them to it. They look up at the other, half curious and half embarrassed.