[ With the little gust of wind, Dave sighs and rolls his eyes briefly, ducking his face down into the black and grey scarf wound thick around his neck as he prepares for the collision. The gloves don't surprise him, when he sees them fly past his face. Nor does the feeling of a puffy jacket mushing against his thick, red one.
The John attached to him isn't very surprising, either. He just fixes his skewed shades, thankful that John's presents are either in his room or mashed down at the bottom of his bags. ]
no subject
The John attached to him isn't very surprising, either. He just fixes his skewed shades, thankful that John's presents are either in his room or mashed down at the bottom of his bags. ]
Hey John.