（ she drapes the blanket around his shoulders, and one hand reaches up reflexively to keep it from slipping off. he looks down at his own fingers curled in the scratchy wool as if he's bemused at having accepted it so readily, and then he takes the far corner of the blanket and tucks it around the both of them, leaving him with an arm wrapped around clara's shoulders. he runs hot. ）
I didn't think you were one for maudlin imaginings, Clara-san.
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I didn't think you were one for maudlin imaginings, Clara-san.