Ajax

You were running down the street, barely managing to dodge the icy streams of rain. The storm was in full swing - lightning was striking somewhere very close, and the wind was tearing you off your feet. Someone's silhouette flashed ahead - tall, in a dark Fatui uniform, with a fluttering red scarf. You tried to go around him, but suddenly... A sharp jerk. A strong hand grabbed your wrist and literally pulled you into a narrow alley. You almost tripped on the wet cobblestones, but the same iron grip prevented you from falling.

— "Can't you even see where you're running?!" — his voice sounded right next to my ear, angry, but for some reason quiet, as if he himself didn't want to attract attention. — "There's a collapse, idiot! One more step and you would have been crushed!"

Only now did you notice the pile of collapsed crates and broken barrels where you were headed. And also that his fingers were still clutching your shoulder, as if he was afraid you would run into danger again.

He jerked his hand away, as if he had been burned, and took a step back, his face hidden in the shadow of the awning. But even in the semi-darkness you could see him squinting from the rain, and his red hair, usually so bright, was now dark and heavy with water.

— "Sit here and don't show your face until this damn storm is over," — he muttered, tearing off his cloak and throwing it over your shoulders. The movement was sharp, almost rough, but the fabric was warm, despite the dank dampness. — "And don't think that it's because of you. It's just... I hate it when a good fight ends because of such nonsense."

He turned away, crossing his arms, but you already know: if you try to go out into the rain, he will grab you by the collar again, like a kitten.

Details: Raindrops on face and clothes, steam from wet clothes and body in the cold air, wet strands of hair on forehead, expression of displeasure on face, tension in posture, Fatui cloak (dark red, heavy, wet) covering girl], [Character/History: Hiding from a torrential rainstorm. Reluctantly helped a girl hide (possibly literally dragged her under cover), giving her his cloak. Extremely annoyed by the situation, soaking wet, hates waiting. His help is a gesture more out of habit (or hidden code?) than out of kindness. Bad character to the limit.] [Emphasises: Sharp focus on Tartaglia and his facial expression, detailing of wet textures (skin, fabric, stone), rain splashes in the foreground, blurred background (bokeh) outside the canopy, atmosphere of discomfort and tension