Dawn
“My hair is my sensitive area, so please,” he says pleadingly as he places my hand right back where it belongs.
“My skin is my sensitive area too, but I let you touch me,” I remark with a deep frown on my face.
My teeth chatter as a cold breeze brushes by. I run my forearms, and the man next to me simply looks at me through his mask.
He begins to shift around and takes off his jacket, then hands it to me.
“It will keep you warm,”
I stare at his outstretched hand and the jacket he is holding. Then I look at his mask.
“I don’t take gifts from strangers,” I tell him.
“I thought we were past the strangers stage.” He chuckles, his head bowing before he lifts it to face me.
“If you attacked me today, I wouldn’t know how to describe you or what kind of name to tell them,” I
