Mrs. Heartfilia hated the cold, ergo her classroom was always so warm.

Mrs. Heartfilia taught a college course class on Faith. Yes ridiculous it was, but she was an extraordinary teacher. Her students would always come out with smiles on their faces and not just because Mrs. Heartfilia was an attractive woman. People constantly talked about her all around campus, never a bad word.

Except for this one young woman with a cold heart.

Her name?

Lucy H.

Day by day she taught, always smiling and laughing, encouraging her pupils on, but this one boy saw through her.

He started to notice when he looked up one day into her classroom and saw her face in her hands.

He then began his search.

The way her warm brown eyes seemed to dull when someone spoke about military, or family.

The way she looked so hurt before flashing like a dazzling light when someone called her Luce.

The way she hugged her arms as she stared blankly at her computer.

How her light seemed to flake away till all that was in her eyes was an empty cold.

How her hand was always fiddling with a chain with a cross, and ring.

Loke wondered who put it there.

One day Mrs. Heartfilia was teaching a lesson about how important hope was, and she was preaching it.

"Hope is what sustains us, hope is what keeps us driven. If we didn't have hope where would we be? Loke!"

He sent a charming smile. He loved the way her eyes were full of passion when she spoke about a topic.

"We would be unmotivated, intrigued, boring. A depressed civilization full of round about days that sparkle without shine."

She beamed.

She didn't seem so cold.

But the cold collided with her when someone knocked on the door.

Lucy walked to the door, and was handed a slip of paper held by a man in uniform.

And everyone in the college class watched as their beloved teacher broke down, to the floor clutching it to her chest.

And everyone cried as their teacher let out heart wrenching sobs.

Everyone could feel the cold.

Inside Mrs Heartfilia's heart.

She let out class early that day.

But I stayed behind, and put my jacket on her shoulders.

She stared up at me with the dead brown eyes, no warmth or anything behind them.

Only sadness remained.

The cold had me in chills.

"He's dead." She whispered.