It’s cold, very cold.

I am shivering, my fingers are numb, and the blanket is not doing its job in keeping me warm.

I am also afraid.

Everything bad happens during winter; fevers, colds, slipping on ice, freezing, hypothermia, my parents abandonment.

I hate winter.

My tears freeze and stick to my face once they touch my skin. I forgot to pay the heating bill, not forgot but I cannot afford it. If I do not start working harder, I also will not have a home. At times like now, I want to give up on all hopes of living a happy life. I wonder how my parents can leave me in this situation without a speck of sorrow or regret.

I do not have the appropriate clothing to work in the cold. Going out in my summer clothing to work is worse than what I am doing to keep myself warm now.

It’s like this every winter.

I hate winter.

“Myungsoo-ah! Myungsoo-ah! Are you here? Open the door, it’s Hyunae.” The frantic knocking on my door is going to give me a headache. I do not want to get up, it will become colder. I don’t like the cold. But the knocking becomes louder and more frantic. And soon it turns into banging. I get up with the thought of not silencing the noise, but of seeing the one person that will truly make me happier in this situation of mine.

When the cold hits me, I flinch. When I try to get up, my legs wobble. But I grasp the frozen knob, unlock the door, and watch as the girl I work hard and harder for just to see her everyday stand there. “Ah… Myungsoo,” She is dressed in winter clothing. I love her, but I also envy her.

Come to think of it, I envy many people.

She pushes me back, her hand against my thin shirt is hot, and I want her to keep touching me. She closes the door behind her, takes off her coat and flings it over me, her breath is coming out in short puffs, and I know she was running here. At the tip of my tongue is the question ‘why?’, and I know what her answer will be, “-because I care for you.”

Hyunae is caring, loud, shy, and warm.

She makes me sit as she takes out cups filled with hot contents from a bag. She knows my situation, and is always within reach. But I never reach, and she always dangers herself, leans over the cliff’s edge as far as she could and reaches for me herself.

She is turned away from me, and I examine her bent shoulders, her curly hair tied up in a bun at the nape of her neck and her bangs pinned and sticking up behind her ears, her long figure, but mostly I’m looking at the back of her head, waiting for her to turn around because I want to see her eyes.

Her eyes that never judge and never hate and are never cold.

Cold eyes are the worst, I’ve been looking into cold eyes my entire life; but not Hyunae. Hyunae’s eyes melt me and I always love that curious sparkle in there.

“Myungsoo… ?” Her jacket falls off my shoulders and onto the floor when I stand, and her body is deliciously hot against my cold one.  Her hair smells burnt and like coco, from straightening it or going to the salon. Her chest pushes my arms back and forth, and her breath becomes hitched. I allowed myself to let go of any uncertainty and nibble her ear. Her little gasp is cute, and she stiffens her body in my arms.

“I’m cold, Hyunae.” Our bodies meld together perfectly, her back against my chest, her hips pressed to mine, her hands reach up behind her and she takes my face in them. I feel her thump trace my lips, her fingers tangle in my hair, and her heart pounding against my forearms. “Can I see your eyes, Hyunae?”

She turns her head, twisting her neck and leans back so I could see her half lidded eyes.

Brown and deep, and not cold. Not hateful. Caring and shy, and not mean, but warm.

Her kisses are hot, her touch is hot, her body is hot.

I am not cold any more.

I don’t like the winter, but I don’t hate it anymore.

As long as I have Hyunae, I don’t hate the cold, I don’t hate winter, because she’s warm.