They sat on a park bench as snow began to lightly fall on them.
"My hands are so cold," she said.
"Here, let me warm them."
He held her hands in his palms.
"Your hands are so warm."
"I kept them in my jacket so if yours got cold, I could help make them warm again."
She smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder.
"You know what warm hands signify, right? They're supposed to mean loyalty," she said.
"You're just making that up."
"I am not. I read it in a book..."
"What's the name of that book, then?"
"Well, I don't remember the name of it, but it's in there, I promise."
"Okay... Sure it is."
He smirked.
They sat there for a few more minutes.
"It's got a green cover. I remember that," she said.
"Hey, your book fell."
He snapped out of his daydream.
"Here, your book fell, and it's beginning to rain," the stranger said.
"Thanks," he said as he picked up the green book and stood up. As he was walking away, he looked back at the same bench that was once covered in snow.
Warm hands did signify loyalty, and her hands were so, so cold.