He jogged to catch up, looking at the sky and at the nearly empty streets. "I don't know. It's really warm for the middle of winter, must be nearly sixty-three degrees... no, sixty-four," he said, biting his bottom lip as he calculated the temperature in his mind. "Yeah, sixty-four."
He sighed, "Weather like this always made me want to have someone to hold hands with."
(He's about as subtle as a brick wall, no? :3 )