"You might not be wrong. If anything, maybe we can start a fire in here to stay warm." She stayed against the wall by the door for a minute, studying it to make sure it would hold, before Dawn finally looked over at Connor, seeing the finger crook. It took her a second, but his words did make sense, so pushing off, the nineteen year old moved across the small space of tower and sank down beside him after shaking off some more snow. She sat with her legs drawn up and wrapped her arms around them, then rested her cheek against one damp knee as her bright blue gaze studied him.
"You knew the flamethrower would soften me up. How long were you planning that for?"