Love Like Winter

Robb's perspective.

Being alone gives me peace. Hence the fact that I frequently leave the solitary comfort of my home, to the streets in the late hours of the night. It is a time that I can get fresh air and think by myself for a while. Heh, as if I don’t think enough already.
That is what I am doing currently. Walking among the silent houses and skeletal trees that surround this night. The early morning sunrise grows near, I can feel it. It's almost like a change all around. Subtle to others, but distinct for me. The temperature grows a little, and the pressure is deeper, higher. I check the cheap watch fastened around my wrist. 330AM. A couple more hours to go. I turn the corner.
Shoving my hands as deep as they'll go in my pockets, I glance around at the bright, feathery snow dusting everything. In yards, piled at the sides of the streets, and silently sifting from the sky. As I come up to a street light, I watch the snowflakes fall through the halo of light it sheds. It looks as if the flakes are alight, that they are glowing from the inside out; like and ember that's itching to shine to its full potential. It tightens my heart. I love the fact that, even in the dimmest light, snow glistens endlessly. It makes everything seem brighter.
I continue at my steady pace, right in the centre of the street. It feels as if I am the only person in this world at present; the snow presses in on me, blocking out everything around me. My own small bubble of peace in this chaotic, destructive world. That is all I ask.
Gazing at the stars, and turning yet another corner, I saw her.
Heard more than saw. A girl's voice, not too young, most likely around teen-aged. She was singing a song. A song that was familiar, but I had yet to recognize. And yet, it almost sounded as if she was in tears. The beat was off kilter, she kept taking pauses, and she sounded short of breath as well. Instead of up, I looked straight. About fifteen feet ahead of me, right in between two street lights in the centre of the street, there she sat. Flashes of black and white, and sitting so still, she could have been frozen in the very ice that was around us. The black street, cleared of snow; a white dress falling over her slim figure in a graceful way; raven-black hair, falling in waves down her back, and hanging an inch or two above the ground. And the white skin. Creamy and pale like the moon. At least her arms were. But she also had strange slashes around her arms....they must've been my imagination. With her back to me, I made my way slowly towards her.
I realized three things when I became very near: the slashes and markings on her arms were many scars from what looked like cuts and burns; the song she was singing was "The Last Night" by Skillet; and that, at that exact moment, she was burning herself with a cigarette.
Suddenly her song broke off, midverse. I know the song very well, and I knew she was at the line just before the chorus. For some reason that I cannot decipher at this moment, the sight of her in such obvious pain gave me a kick of adrenaline. I wanted to run towards her, help her up, and make sure she would never cry again. I wanted to show her and help her understand how beautiful the city is, on a cold winters' night. An unfamiliar urge rose up inside me: the urge to hold her in my arms, make her happy, and never let go.
She was weeping louder now. It nearly shattered my heart, hearing her sobs, and watching her shoulders hunch forward with her body shivering against the merciless cold. She had not picked up the song where she left off, and in a flash of courage, I decided to do it for her.
"This is the last night you'll spend alone,
Look me in the eyes so I know you know;
I'm everywhere you want me to be.
The last night you'll spend alone,
I'll wrap you in my arms and I won’t let go;
I'm everything, you need me to be."
The girl whirled around, dropping the cigarette and clutching her throat in surprise. We gazed at each other for a long time. Neither one moved, neither one spoke. Slowly, cautiously, I sat down on the street, just a few feet away from her. She blinked and shook her head, as if to shake away an illusion from behind her lids. But she slowly spun herself around, so she was now facing me. We both sat cross-legged, and just looked at each other.
Breaking the silence, I said, "What is your name ?" And even though I whispered it quietly -ever so quietly- my voice seemed unnaturally loud in the heavy silence around us.
She replied with a "Why were you watching me ?" Her voice was very quiet as well. A very hushed voice that didn’t have too high a pitch.
I blinked and nervously fingered the black scarf around my neck. "I was just wandering around, and I heard you singing. It tugged at my curiosity, so I came to see what it was," I answered her. I could see a small blush creep up her neck, and rise to her cheeks. Looking down, she spoke quietly. "I'm sorry."
I chuckled softly without much humor. "You're apologizing for singing a beautiful song to yourself ?" I clarified.
Her face turned a deeper scarlet. "Yes. I suppose I am."
I met her gaze. "My name is Robb. You are...?" I left the question open-ended, hoping she would answer me this time.
"A girl. A lonely, hurt girl trying to find a way to survive each day," she replied; voice hushed, and never once moving her gaze from mine.
I felt my eyes soften. I felt like I needed to help this girl, wipe her tears and never leave her side. I spoke: "You don’t know me, you don’t have to know me, hell, and you probably don’t even want to know me, but just know that, for some reason, I want to make you happy. Hearing you cry, it tore at my soul. I want to make sure you're alright, and ask if you need or want anything. Like I said in the song, 'this is the last night you'll spend alone.' You'll never have to be alone again because, no matter what, I'm involved. I care about what happens to you, and I'll always be here. You're stuck with me."
By the end of my little speech, her eyes had closed. I saw sparkling tears run from her eyes, down her cheeks, off her chin, and onto her knees. She was silent and still as a statue for many minutes. Finally, her whole body shuddered, one big tremor going through her inner core. Her breath came out through her teeth in a small hiss, and her fingertips were blue with the beginning of frostbite. My eyes widened in alarm at the fact that all she had on was a white dress and black boots. Swiftly and gracefully, she stood up. She shook out her hair and turned around, no longer facing me.
"I have to go," I heard her say.
Standing up, not nearly as graceful as her, I took off my black leather jacket and offered it to her, but she just shook her head and waved it off. Seeing her in full height, I could see that she is very tall, nearly six foot, but very slim and willowy at the same time.
"Will I see you again ?" I asked, and nearly flinched when I heard the raw desperation in my voice -I was almost afraid for her answer.
She just looked at me -we were almost the same height. "In the winter, I am in this spot, every morning from 230AM until 4AM. You'll see me then." Her voice was as soft as the wind around us.
She turned on her heel, and walked lightly to a house a few doors down from where we were seated. I watched her the whole time. I saw her pause at the front door, and met her gaze when she looked over her shoulder. She smiled for the first time since I saw her. A small, beautiful smile that lasted only a second.
"Avery. My name is Avery." And she disappeared inside the house.