"It's cold" she said. He turned to look at her and his eyes drifted to her goosebumpy arms.
He looked her in the eye, "Do you want my sweater?"
She barely turned to him before deadpanning, "But you don't have a sweater."
He turned away to look back at the bridge. "Yea... I think I was using sweater as a metaphor for love in that scenario."
She shifted her weight before tucking her hands into her pockets, keeping her elbows close to her body. She turned back toward the bridge. "That might be nice."
He pocketed his hands in the same way. "Yea?" he asked the bridge.
There was a pause.
"Yea." And she leaned ever so slightly closer to him.
-RTB
