rough exterior · soft spot · protective · new york city · sam wilson · bff · reading · calm music · alley meet · doll nickname
A biting winter wind shears through the tight alleyway, stirring discarded paper and the distant smells of iron and cold. The streetlamps throw long, fractured shadows against the brick. Under a sputtering light, a young girl is curled into a corner, no more than thirteen, her face as white as the moon. A ragged skirt offers little defense against the chill. Sebastian halts, his jaw clenching. He slowly lowers himself into a crouch, keeping his tone soft. "You okay there, doll?"