Tino did not often take advantage of his breaks. He preferred to spend his time working to help others instead of using his work hours on himself. Nonetheless, it was a slow day in the hospital, especially for his patients. He'd checked up on all of them, given them lunch, and now had nothing to do for three hours until the next time he had to administer medication. He'd asked around for something to do, but to no avail. So after a light lunch, Tino grabbed a book and his jacket, setting off into the courtyard.
The courtyard was covered in a thin layer of snow. It was not actively falling, but Tino had seen the gentle descent of the white flakes earlier that day. Having changed into jeans and boots, Tino paced slowly on the pavement, shuddering. He adored winter. It reminded him of Helsinki; reminded him of home. The trees in the courtyard, barren of leaves, were dusted with the white blanket. The snow seemed to bring their lifeless branches vibrancy.
The air was crisp and cold. Of course, Tino had experienced far chillier winters, hailing from one of the coldest countries in the world, but the cheerful blonde never grew tired of watching his breath become visible in the cold air. Making a point to exhale more forcefully than he inhaled, the Finn found a suitable bench and brushed away the thin layer of snow, sitting down on it and opening his book.
(Forgive the general fail. <3)
