It’s cold, very cold.

I am quaking, my fingers are without sensation, and the blanket is not doing its job in maintaining me warm. How long has it been since I’ve took for granted the things I had, the closure I had, and security. So long, because the thing I would like most now is not a brand new video game or a pair of limited sneakers, but a blanket that is heavy and warm.

I am also afraid. The tight, knotted feeling in my gut is always there when I’m in this predicament. Because to me, everything bad happens during winter; fevers, colds, slipping on the ice, freezing, hypothermia, my parents abandonment. What harm would it do, taking care of a child until he can manage on his own? Just because of selfish reasons, because they hated investing their money on something other than gambling and liquor, they had left me.

The wound they had left me with for all these years were still fresh, it’s still painful to think of how easy it was to simply leave me there, on the train station’s platform. Watch with my own two eyes their unconcerned faces. It was my first night  sleeping without warmth.

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 around me, and I have the sick feeling that ice will form onto my skin. I know I won’t like that. 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, my hands hurting at the strong chill, 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 nowadays.

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.” It gives me a sense that not everything is ruined for me, having Hyunae around.

Hyunae is empathetic, thunderous, bashful, and affectionate.

She makes me sit on the bed, the only furniture I have besides the counters, 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. I always thought of that as something brave, considering many of her friends are pot heads, somewhat thieves, and Barbies.

She gives me a reassuring smile and pat on the shoulder, turning away from me to fix up whatever she had brought along with her. I take this time to study her body, the curve of her hips, how she bends her shoulders, her legs that are so long it’s a tease when she wears something short, her exposed neck. 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 are always sparked with some sort of emotion.

Her eyes that in no way critic another being, on no account despises, and are never, ever frosty.

Cold eyes are the worst, I’ve been looking into them my entire life; but not Hyunae. Hyunae’s eyes thaw out any bad feelings I get and I always worship that curious sparkle in there.

“Myungsoo… ?” Her jacket falls off my shoulders and onto the floor when I stand, and crossing the space in between us in few strides, 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 snags. I allowed myself to let go of any insecurity and nibble her ear. Her little gasp is cute, and she stiffens her body in my arms.

I’m aware of only her, of her breathing, her heat, her trembling figure.

“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 worn and dirty white T - Shirt in them, gripping it hard. I feel a harsh thump beat against my forearms, her fingers tangling in the fabric of my shirt. “Can I see your eyes, Hyunae?”

She takes a moment to disengage from me, to turn fully around and give me a wary look. I frown, why were they uncertain? Hyunae has never been trustful of the opposite , having many friends that cry over them, abandon her for them, and get hurt by them. Still she’s always had a better conversation with a male than a female, I was hoping to not be categorized among the males that she finds suspicious in intent.

Soon the look in her eyes change, again they were the bottomless coffee eyes that constantly replicate what she suffers or experiences through inside, and are not bitter.

Not intolerable or vile, but concerned and timid.

Hyunae leans back her head so she could give me a ghost of a kiss under my lips; I wrap her in my arms again.

Her touch is searing, her body is boiling, and I sigh as her hands slip inside my shirt and scorch my skin wherever they touch. I do the same as she; finding the bottom hem of her long sleeved shirt and running my hand up her stomach and behind to her back where they flatten. A trickled of excitement rushes down my body when our lips finally come together.

My movements are lazy and slow, afraid that becoming selfish along with wanting more will only have the opposite effect. But Hyunae is on her tiptoes, her fingers curled and her fists hard against my waist. She’s parting her lips, tilting her head to the side so every part of her lips is covered by mine.

“Myungsoo,” I open my eyes when she pulls back and watch as she blushes furiously, legs tightly together, breath uneven. I become as red as Hyunae. “Sarang… hae.”

I am not chilly any more.

I don’t enjoy the winter, the wintry weather and what it brings, but I don’t abhor it any longer.

As long as I have Hyunae, I don’t hate the cold, I don’t hate winter, because she’s always going to be here.