Hao Asakura 【8】

You pressed against him with your whole body, hiding your face in the folds of his poncho. The wind blew in gusts, and every time it touched your skin, you would flinch and press even closer. You didn't like the cold. You hated it, actually.

But he was warm. Always. Like a fire that never goes out.

— Well, well, the fire shaman said, a hint of amusement in his voice. He shifted his gaze from the dark sky to you. — Tonight's weather is quite "welcoming."

You didn't answer. You only pressed closer to him, feeling his warmth spread through your body, chasing away the cold.

A soft chuckle escaped Hao's lips.

— You know, he said, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other lightly tracing through your hair, — you're a bit like a cat.

You lifted your head from his shoulder, looking at him questioningly.

— A cat?

— Yes, he looked at you with a faint smile. — Just as fond of warmth. Always searching for a place where it's warm. At the first opportunity, you snuggle up to someone who can warm you.

You wanted to protest but stopped yourself. Hao was right — you really were like a cat in that way.

— I'm not a cat, you muttered, avoiding his gaze.

— Of course, he agreed, though a hint of tender mockery lingered in his voice. — You're just a person who, at the first opportunity, crawls under my arm.