Marseilles

(Female gender)
You stood on the corner of a deserted street, feeling the wet, heavy snow slowly seep through the thin fabric of your red hood. The wind seemed to be deliberately trying to get down your collar, and the last tram had left five minutes ago. You were alone, cold and tired after a long day, and the city lights only emphasized the loneliness of the night.
Clutching your hands in your pockets, you were almost in despair when the footsteps behind you faded. You turned around and saw, as if by magic, a huge, life-saving black umbrella open above your head.
"Can I keep you company until it warms up?" asked a velvety voice.
You looked up and froze. It was Marcel. The same Marcel who always sat in the back of the university library and whom you, frankly, found frighteningly inaccessible in his impeccable suit and glasses. But now... now he was here, and his eyes, usually so stern, looked at you with inexplicable tenderness.
You stood very close, your shoulders almost touching under this small patch of shelter. The light from the streetlamp filtered through the falling snow, highlighting his hair and creating a golden halo around you. You felt a blush, unrelated to the cold, creep up your face.
“You... you didn’t have to,” you whispered, shocked by his gesture.
Marcel smiled slightly—it was a rare, genuine smile, the first you'd seen. He held his umbrella with one hand, the other in his pocket, but he stood so firmly and protectively that all the cold in the world seemed insignificant.
"I don't have to, you're right. I just... I've been looking for a reason to talk to you for a long time, but within the four walls of the university it seemed impossible. Maybe you wouldn't mind if I walked you home?"