She was Cold. That much was clear. He always watched her from afar; sitting three rows back from her and undressing her with his black eyes every time they fell upon her head of ivory hair. He never spoke to her, only watched her. Memorizing each small movement she made through the course of the day. A twitch of her finger, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, even the swell of her chest (as Un-well-endowed as it was) as she took in each breath. He'd been watching her for years and her image was an icy branding in his mind; long winter-colored hair that resembled the season for which Cold was named, eyes such a freezing blue he feared they'd shatter like glass and his image of her would form an ugly crack.

He'd only ever spoken to the Cold once. A cliché pick-up line at best; he'd asked if she fell from heaven, and she proceeded to threaten to kick him down to hell if he ever spoke to her again. Needless to say he didn't listen and continued his carefree flirting. But her harsh frigid words had not only caused him to cease flirting with other women, it spurred on his obsession with her even more. He was never not thinking about her, dreaming about her, imagining what they'd be like together if she fell for his lies. What she'd sound like, feel like, taste like. He wouldn't call it love or even a crush. No. Love was a sunny, smiley, rainbow word that implied that everything was alright in the world as long as two people kissed and cuddled and nuzzled noses like the ignorant children they were. Cold wasn't like that at all. She was… cold. She didn't try seeking love or happiness or even contempt, she saw the world like he did. As broken and extremely close to unfixable. It was what drew him into her web. It was his reason for… not loving her but… for not hating her like he did everyone else.

After weeks of becoming sick of watching he, despite his professor's nagging, stood from his seat and marched down to her row to stare her straight into her frozen glass eyes. She'd glared as she always did but this time his arrogant smirk was replaced with a glare of his own. He challenged her with something he knew she wouldn't refuse; finals. If she scored higher than him on the exam he'd leave her alone forever. If he scored higher than her, she'd go on one date with him; meaning a minimum of eight hours outside doing some activity with him. She had no reason to agree and he hadn't even expected her to. But to his surprise Cold smirked – the closest he'd ever gotten to a smile from her – and sealed the deal.

He began as arrogant and callous, but as time continued ticking and more and more "bets" between them took place, he finally realized something.

He didn't hate Cold.

He could never hate her.

Because against his better judgment… he'd fallen in love with her. Her and her frozen eyes. Every time he stared into those eyes instead of at the back of her head he found himself shivering from her. He knew he could never warm her, but it sure didn't mean he wouldn't try. He craved their moments like a dying man craved water. He flirted with her before, but now he worshipped her when she moved with him. Breathing profusely and shouting his name into the empty void that was his life before she came into it. He wanted to warm her, protect her, be with her. Never leave her for as long as he lived.

He knew she deserved better. Hell, everyone did. But he didn't care; he'd made more mistakes than anyone could ever hope to, had no regrets at all despite the things he'd done. Things he'd sure earn a V.I.P. box seat in hell for. He knew all too well that he was selfish and antagonistic enough to keep her for himself and love her how he wanted and let her love him for as long as she wanted. Even if she one day realized her mistake and froze his heart into glass shards he wouldn't care. He'd gotten to love her and for that he guessed the world wasn't a complete lost cause after all.

She was Cold.

And yet he'd melted from loving her.


He was Poison. She'd know this from the very beginning. Every day when she took her seat she immediately felt his eyes on her. She barely remembered a time when he wasn't watching her, stripping her of any trace of fabric with his eyes and making every effort to get under her skin. He was callous, arrogant, insufferable, and a Poison in her life. Her friends often jabbed at her that she should go out with him because of his epic crush on her, but she'd always laughed and brushed the thought away. She knew he flirted with anything that moved, but then again his coal-colored eyes only ever burned into her and left an acidic taste in her mouth. She sat three rows down from him so she didn't see him often, but she had seen him too many times for her liking; hair the color of molten silver and eyes darker than purest obsidian. He was a typical bad-boy she'd happily ignore if he'd ever leave her alone.

But he never did. Always with the flirting and pick-up lines and he even had the audacity to come to her room to "Hang out." Like hell. His definition of hanging out was vastly different than her own. Even on the first day they'd met she knew she didn't care for him. He'd smirked and his gaze lingered a little too long at her minimal cleavage, licking his lips as he stared, before he could even open his mouth to speak her palm met his cheek with a loud Crack! She didn't bother to look back and see his shocked expression, and simply settled for her satisfaction. But low and behold he pursued her anyway.

Hate was a strong word, but it accurately described Poison in her eyes. He was so full of himself it disgusted her, so confident in his movements and carefree in his life while everyone around him, herself included, fought, scratched, and clawed for the things they wanted. It was part of the reason she always rejected him; he just didn't care! She might've agreed to his offer the first time had he not been so… himself. It sounds cruel but the truth always was.

But one day, for once, she didn't feel his eyes on her. She was grateful at the possibility he'd skipped class for about five seconds before a pair of rough hands slammed onto her desk. Her glass eyes glared at him so fiercely the girl beside her feared the whole class would combust. For once she saw no smirk, no playing look in his onyx eyes, for once she was met with an equally if not more so intense glare of his own. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise; he was always teasing and lustful towards her but never hostile, maybe even violent. Those eyes slightly scared her in that moment.

Their deal had been struck and she immediately regretted it. He'd been trying to get a rise out of her, to antagonize her like he always did. And this time she'd actually fallen into his trap, Poison had lured her into a snare she didn't know how to get out of.

Their first date was brief, they could not be in each other's presence for more than five minutes without her yelling and him making some inappropriate comment. It got to the point where she decided to up and leave, but as soon as her fingers brushed the door she felt a hand take her wrist and halt her in her tracks. Icy blue met coal black and for the first time since she'd met him he looked… apologetic? Poison asked her to stay and give him another chance. She didn't want to, but for some reason couldn't make her lips utter the words and sat back at their table to finish their meal. He'd walked her home and that was that.

It was her fault. It had been her mistake. She'd kissed him. It would've been leagues easier to push him away and reject him again. They'd finished another bet that resulted in another date, she'd been seeing sides of him she didn't know existed; he wasn't just arrogant and callous. He was also caring and very protective. Poison had been the one to lean in but she had made the fatal mistake of pulling him to her. It would've been easier to push him away. But she didn't. She hated what he was doing to her head. She hated how she liked it. That one kiss resulted in many more strung together like a beautiful song. She hated how he loved her, how he was gentle and affectionate with her and only her. She hated how she'd been weak and given herself up for him. She hated how she felt so safe wrapped up in his arms.

Yet no matter how many times she repeated it in her head, she didn't hate him.

She just hated how she felt about him.

She hated his mercurial hair and dark eyes that resembled the endless pit that her heart had once been before he'd weaseled his way into it. She hated how his smirk didn't make her seethe anymore but made her smirk back like they'd been friends forever who'd just shared a joke. She hated how he always felt the need to be with her and how she never stopped him. She hated when he told her she was beautiful and brushed away her ivory bangs. She especially hated the redness in her face that followed his sweet nothings in her ear. She told herself constantly that his love was a trick, a lie, a cruel joke at her expense, but when he looked at her she no longer felt the hate she once had. And she hated that most of all.

Poison had spread to her heart.

And her love for him would be the death of her.


Hey guys hope you liked this short story! I originally wrote it for an English assignment but then I realized it fit with Weiss and Mercury perfectly! anyway hope you liked it!