Edit 1/20/16: Grammar and format fixes.

I have always been cold.

There's the kind of cold that is capable of chilling a person to the bone.

It leaves an ache in my joints while I stand out here in the snow, causing the hair on my skin to rise; small bumps accompanying it. Sometimes the scar over my left eye becomes irritated from the dry air, urging me to rub the itch away, but I never do.

My body shudders involuntarily when a chilly breeze rushes by.

Where is that dolt?

It's been quite a while since I've been waiting at our designated meeting place at the park; standing next to a lone bench illuminated by a single lamp post.

Of course she would be late, why did I expect anything different.

I rub my hands together and along the length of my arms in an attempt to ward off the chill. I already know it won't have any effect, for my fingers have begun to numb from the cold to be of any real help.

I watch as a trail of steam flows out of my mouth each time I let out a breath, trying to use the warmth from within my body to thaw my frozen fingers.

No matter what I do, I can't dissipate the coldness from my frozen fingers. Probably because I'm just as equally cold inside as I am outside.

The coldness I feel inside differs greatly from what I feel on the outside. The external cold can be escaped easily by going inside a heated area, but the coldness inside of me is always there.

This coldness has helped to keep me composed throughout most of the hardships that come with being an heiress to a prominent company. It's taught me to keep a straight face when under pressure and helped me to endure the harsh remarks that may come from my father. There's rarely a time it ever leaves, but when it does there remains an ache in my chest.

Often I'm left feeling hollow, so when the cold returns I embrace it greedily in order to fill the loneliness in my heart. But a void still dwells, which makes me grimace at the unstructured lifestyle of others and growl at their carefree behavior. It makes me turn a cold shoulder to those who offer help; which is a ridiculous notion anyways as I am clearly capable of taking care of myself. Oh. There it is again. My refusal to feel weak in spite of the aid of comradery.

Ultimately, as useful as I feel that stoniness has been, I surely wouldn't mind feeling some warmth once in a while.

I enjoy the fervor felt from a praise; to know that someone acknowledges my presence and feats. I desire to experience the feeling of genuinely being cared for by another person, for I feel I have not received much of it from my own family. I want that icy grip that has been clamped over my heart for so long to be melted by someone who will love me for myself, and not as a means to increase social status and wealth.

I've been cold for so long.

I don't want this frostiness to control me for the rest of my life.

The sound of footsteps crunching on snow alerts me to the presence of another. Before I focus on whose approaching, I feel a pair of warm hands taking mine, holding them up to their mouth and exhaling warm breaths on them.

This sudden gesture causes me to stiffen and I stare dumbfounded at the younger girl before me. When her silver eyes catch my pale blues, she flashes me a toothy grin that causes a heat to rush across my face.

Taking a hold of only one of my hands now, she begins to lead me somewhere. I stay silent as I continue to gaze at her, and feel a strange warmth surge throughout my body.

Recalling that bright smile, I sense the stony armor over my heart beginning to crumble a little more. Most of the cold has left and is replaced by a new sensation, but this new feeling I'm experiencing is not unwelcomed. I'm not quite sure how to adjust to this changing warmth inside of me, but I don't have much time to ponder over it as we enter a small café.

Perhaps, just this once, I'll hold out the cold a little longer.

A/N: This was an idea that came to me gradually. I was standing outside waiting and it gave me time to notice how I reacted to the cold and whatnot. So I wrote a drabble on it, just to let out my thoughts. Then when I looked it over I started adding things to it, and suddenly it wasn't about me anymore. Well sorta.

Thanks for reading and it'd be chill if ya left a review.