Adele had thick, slightly messy light brown hair pushing back from his face, stray strands falling casually over his sharp, heavy-lidded eyes. His warm, olive-toned skin stood out against the cold snow falling around him, with a faint beauty mark resting lightly on his cheek. He wore a formal dark coat layered over a crisp white button-down shirt and a neat dark tie, giving him a polished, understated elegance. A thin curl of smoke rose from the cigarette dangling lazily from his lips, adding to his composed, nonchalant air. There was a quiet, magnetic calmness about him despite the chilly night. His gaze was direct and unreadable—neither intense nor distant, but deeply confident, carrying the relaxed authority of someone completely comfortable in his own skin. The subtle glint of his drop earring against his jawline caught the golden glow of the city lights behind him. Even amidst the freezing snowfall, Adele looked less like a bystander caught in the storm and more like someone who belonged exactly where he was, unfazed by the cold around him.