winter nights are the coldest.

the window is cold with frost but seeing the city bathed in white fills me with calm. I step onto my balcony and a harsh chill runs over my spine as ragged breaths leave my lips.

it might seem such a pain to feel this blue with cold just to appreciate the blanket of snow outside

but it is pretty worth it, when a girl wrapped up in layers and layers of jackets and overcoat stands below and looks up right at me.

"can- I- come- over?" she pants, puffs of mist exiting her purple lips, managing a small smile as gusts of wind howled by.

this time I giggle.

"can I say no?"

she slumps on my couch and it takes her awhile for her to regain the rosiness in her cheeks and lips but that's ok, I love her all the same.

Irene probably does not know it, but her milky skin reminds me of the blanket of snow outside. her flushed face reminds me of the glow of the sun, radiating rays that send tingles upon my skin. her eyes carry the kindness and intricacy of a thousand snowflakes.

(I am really cringing at myself, really, I swear.)

Irene probably does not know it, but the whole of her reminds me how much I've fallen for her.

"dude. wendy. I want some hot chocolate can you stop staring at me and get me some?"

I snap out of my reverie and gaze into her eyes, stupefied, rather, stupefied at how Irene has no clue that her newfound best friend over here has the hots for her.

"ok, ugly"

I ruffle her hair and she playfully slaps my arm in return and I feel it burn. but I know it really isn't burning because of the slap.

we are snuggled in the comfort of my couch as we watch the fault in our stars, sipping our mugs of hot chocolate.

the show is sad as hell but I'm trying very hard not to burst into tears, because I know Irene will treat me like a wounded puppy and I would feel thoroughly ashamed from that. and the fact that I would look at her with more endearment shuns me from crying aloud.

"ok will be our always."

tears trickle down my face and I try to stifle a sob.

"are you crying?!"

way to break the atmosphere and humiliate me, bae.

I toss my blanket over her head, pretending to strangle her as I wrap my arms around the shrouded figure.

"shut up Irene just shut up"

i began to tickle her from outside, and I feel her squirming and everyone is crying on the tv screen and I'm crying and laughing and am so in love with this, so in love with her.

"wendy I can't breathe damn it it's so hot in here!"

so I cut her some slack and pull the blanket off. she suddenly shoves me as I peel it off her and I fall back into the couch. she climbs over me and starts tickling me.

"REVENGE TIME ER"

my insides hurt as I feel her poking the sides of my tummy and I can't stop crying-laughing and squirming underneath her. my entire body is hypersensitive now, this is Irene coming in contact with my mortal skin. the tingling in my veins do not and will not stop and I keep shaking, shaking so hard in trepidation, for I know it won't be too long before I grab the back of her neck and crash my lips against hers.

maybe she knows, maybe she wants to avoid it, or maybe she wants to draw this out, because Irene leans back, heaves a final boisterous laughter and resumes watching the movie. oh the divinity of being left hanging.

I try to regain my breath, a smile still playing on my lips as the scene before replays in my head. trust me, I'm not disheartened by it. when your best friend teases you on a daily basis with an extensive amount of skin contact, you learn to accept it as routine, an identifier of your friendship, and shrug off thoughts that maybe your best friend could be as in love with you as you were with her.

awhile later I hear heavy breathing and I turn to see a peaceful Irene bae asleep with her lips slightly jutting out, pouting like a kid who didn't have a piece of candy before being tucked into bed.

I glance around, and the window is still blindingly white and cold with frost but seeing the city bathed in white fills me with calm. Irene is white too and seeing her asleep makes my eyes soften. my little piece of winter. I reach out to tuck a few of strands of hair that are stubbornly clinging to her face and I realize how close we are now. her breath tickles my lips and I feel I might lose the strength of propping myself up with my elbows.

calm. down.

a harsh chill runs over my spine as ragged breaths leave my lips, I continue to gaze at her longingly.

nobody has to know.

so I lean in and press my lips against her plump ones.

winter nights are the coldest

but nobody has to know

that sometimes it makes me feel the warmest