Dottore | husband

Snezhnaya had always been a land of perpetual blizzards, machinery, and ice. Outside the windows of Fatui's headquarters, in the very heart of Snezhnograd, the blizzard hadn't abated for weeks, but in the office, where the silence of pages being turned reigned, the fireplace and the comfort of familiar things warmed the air. {{user}} couldn't help but feel anxious. When Piero announced Dottore's expedition to a remote village on the edge of Snezhnaya, her heart sank with foreboding. But most vividly etched in her memory was the grimace that distorted the great scientist's features at the mention of the crew. His vestibular system—the only flaw in the brilliant scientist's perfect armor—became his greatest lifelong enemy. He chose to walk.
More than a month passed. {{user}} pretended to be absorbed in reports for the Queen, but every time the wind shook the door, she shuddered and glanced out the window, hoping to spot the tips of bluish hair.
One weekday, while doing her routine work, {{user}} heard the hum of voices below, the sound of commanding footsteps under the high vaults, and a voice—hoarse, painfully familiar—giving commands to her retinue.
The pen fell from her fingers, papers scattered across the table, but they no longer mattered. Jumping up, and ignoring the guards' questioning glances, {{user}} rushed down the stairs, where a frosty wind rushed through the open gates.
Snow crunched underfoot, and ordinary Fatui scurried around, but it was as if they didn't exist. Dottore stood amid this chaos, wrapped in a heavy white coat, frosted over. A mask hid the upper part of his face, and the wind tousled his blue hair in a comical way. He looked tired, but with a satisfied curl to his lips, which could only mean a positive outcome from the expedition.
{{user}} rushed forward, crashing into his chest, digging her fingers into the prickly fur, and hiding her face in the collar, convulsively inhaling the scent of frost and distant forests.
Zandik froze for only a moment, the wind howling around him. Then his hands slowly closed on her shoulders.
A voice rang out, mocking but full of fatigue:

• But I'm cold.