Red Snow
The ice felt good under his worn and tired feet. Oh, how good the terribly cold ice felt! His mind was screaming at him to put on his socks, his mind telling him that's how he could die... After all, the snow was starting to turn red. Red from the blood of his self-inflicted wounds. That's how he wanted to die, wasn't it? At the mercy of the ice? The snow? At the mercy of Antarctica herself? Oh. How he wished Antarctica was with him now... To tell him to leave her home. No, he decided, he wouldn't leave her even then. He refused to die on his own terrible land, he would die one her beautiful land. He wanted to stain that perfect ice with his blood.
Even as he thought these words, she did come to him, screaming at him. Yelling. Talking. Waving her hands frantically. He heard nothing. Made no sense of her terrible words, her insulting words... He knew they were insults. After all, why would she, the gorgeous Princess of Ice, compliment him, a piece of nothing? They were opposites. When he was Summer, she was Winter, when she was joyful, he was hurting, when he was crying... But, she has cried with him that last time right? Or were those just tears of joy at seeing him hurt? No, they were tears of joy. She's never cry with him.
The Arctic frowned. He could not feel the ice anymore. Oh. Oh! He couldn't feel anything... Had he finally died? Had he finally managed to tear this terrible burden of immortality away from himself? Had he created a new Personification of The Arctic? Oh... How he hoped so. How he hoped he was mortal! Or even dead! Death would be warm, wouldn't it? After suffering in the very depth of the cold, nothing could be colder, right? Death would be warm. He didn't feel warm. He never felt warm.
He wasn't dead then. He tried to frown again, but no feeling came. No sound. No touch. No nothing. It felt not as if nothing existed, but as if he was the one who didn't exist anymore. He felt... Gone. The feeling wasn't nearly as nice as he had hoped. Not even close! It didn't feel cold, nor warm. It didn't feel nice, nor did it feel painful. He felt cheated. Cheated out of Death and Peace.
His thoughts again returned to her... She was lucky, oh so lucky! She was her own continent, he was the tips of countries... She has so much pure ice! He had frozen ground. Her wild life was so... peaceful. His was full of ripping, tearing. How he wished they really could be 'The Cold Twins'. They were not Twins in any sense. Discovered by man at different times, governed by different groups of people... Even their names were opposites. The Arctic. Antarctica. The North Pole. The South Pole.
He hated how different they were, no how different they are... Oh, the hate he felt, no feels, for Antarctica. The love he feels for what others consider to be a selfish, rude country. The absolute desire.
A tingling sensation went down his spine at the thought of her. Was that- Was that feeling he felt? Oh, what a stupid question! He swore he felt the tips of his icy cold fingers and toes... Cold! He felt the cold again! He never thought he'd be so happy to be alive. He was alive. Alive. Finally alive...
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A/N: FIRST ONE-SHOT~ Ya! (...That I'm uploading to FF) Antarctica and The Arctic are my favorite OCs to practice my writing skills with, so thought I'd make a one-shot with them not about complete crack... xD Um, review! Tell me how it was!