P0L_LUX
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Guest's eyes fell to their hands, watching as they attempted to hide a shake and pale fingers. Gosh darn his good Sarmatian heart. At the very least, Guest could beat them in a brawl. They looked like the wind was going to pick them up and whisk them away.
He sighed, long and heavy. He massaged between his thick brows and along the bridge of his nose. "Stomp your boots. Don't get snow on my floor."
"Thank you! You wont regret it, I swear on it." They practically clicked their heels as they walked into the house, thankfully remembering to brush off the snow.
Guest grunted, propping his rifle against the wall and padded back into the kitchen to serve himself — and apparently a city rat— a warm meal.
OR
Guest gets a knock on his door in the middle of a snow storm. He lets the stranger stay, and becomes deeply troubled with how much they're alike.
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Summary
"Look, n7," Shedletsky started again, plastering a small grin to his face. "I appreciate the concern, but-"
"I know how feels when the killer is entwined in your past."
Shedletsky fell silent. He knew logically 007n7 didn't know the details of his story, but it still instilled fear in his heart. The other survivors barely tolerated 007n7's presence, most disliking him for the destruction he caused as a hacker. What would they think of him if he told them that 1×1×1×1 was a product of his hatred? He had accumulated so much discontent, malice, and pride that it physically materialized and ran round murdering the people he cared about. How would they ever trust him again?
Or...
1x1x1x1 physically pains Shedletsky to see, the survivors are mad at him, and 007n7 is confronting his lies.
But maybe 007n7 is an unlikely place of solace.
And then they fuck!