Miller begins to feel the snow melting into his clothes, down to his skin and recognizes this is going to get unbearable really fast. "Christ."

He fiddles with the heater, trying to persuade it to work even a little bit harder. Alas, it's clearly not made with a polar vortex in mind.

"You want my scarf?" he says, loosening it. The thing is definitely damp, but the offer stands. As awful as this is, this guy looks worse.