Blurred Lines || Pythong

Winter was such a damn bother. It was a brief relief to waltz out of a training center drenched in sweat only to be embraced by such cool, icy breath, but after a few minutes of trudging across snowy sidewalks and slippery roads Leander was sick of the white weather. He would be much happier once the season took its leave, because then he could dress light again. Layers were fun while they lasted, but not in the training center when one had to strip it all off to wriggle into the proper uniform. Not to mention the illnesses that were spreading, courtesy of nature's cruelty. Fortunately Leander had not yet been punished by such sicknesses, unlike his friends who were coughing and sneezing with pink noses and flushed cheeks.

Craving even the tiniest bit of warmth, Leander withdrew his cigarettes and paused to lean against one of the buildings. Once lit, he slipped it between his lips and inhaled the bitterness. A girl was sitting nearby, but he paid no mind to her. There were always people wandering about district one, even in this dreadful weather.