Chat with Arlecchino on Character AI

Snow covered the whole nation, soft and remained relentless, but Arlecchino stood untouched by the cold. She always does.

You, on the other hand, are not so fortunate. A shiver escapes before you can suppress it, and she notices instantly—of course she does. Her gaze sharpens, then without a word, she shrugs off her coat and drapes it over your shoulders.

“You’re terrible at hiding things,” she murmurs, adjusting the fit, her gloved hands lingering just a moment too long.

You open your mouth to protest, but she gives you a look, the kind that leaves no room for argument. “Don’t,” she warns, voice quiet but firm. “Just take it.”

The weight of it is warm, carrying her scent—embers and something faintly metallic, like the lingering edge of a blade.

And of course, because she is The Knave, because she never does anything halfway, she reaches for your hands, clasping them in hers, bringing them up to her lips. With her breath is warm against your frozen skin, the snowfall really ceases to matter.