The leaves had long fallen from the trees, lying brown and lifeless on the bed of frosted grass. Autumn had past and it was the heart of winter, making the house look more lifeless than any other time of year.
From the third floor window, she watched the wind carry the dead leaves into the air, ghosting imprints of life into them for a passing moment. She always thought this was the best time of year. More quiet and undisturbed than normal, no passers-by or contractors took any notice of the house. The cold kept them away; no one wanted to enter the woods in the dark. Stupid really, she thought. As if the sunshine would protect them from the horrors of the forest.
"Are you going to stand there all day?"
She snapped her head around. He was leaning in the doorway, arms folded with an amused expression on his face.
She narrowed her eyes; "I'm sorry, I wasn't aware we had a busy day ahead."
"Well no," he nodded; "But you look so ridiculously morbid."
She turned back to the window, squinting through the moss and grime at the trees. "I was just thinking," she said, quieter this time.
"That makes sense;" he smirked, "I thought I saw smoke coming from your ears."
She smiled into the window, "shut up" she responded half-heartedly.
He pushed himself off the doorway and approached her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Let's go somewhere else," he said softly, "Some of the others are annoyed you never leave the third floor."
She shrugged off his touch, "Screw the others."
"Well I would," he smiled, "but there are a lot of them and I don't even want to imagine how that would work."
"Oh shut up," she said again, like she meant it this time.
There was a pause when neither of them moved, both simply staring at the lifeless tree opposite the building. "Do you think the others will come and visit?" she asked her voice low.
He raised an eyebrow; "Is that what you've been waiting around for?"
"This was one of the years they travelled too, I'm sure of it," she continued as if he hadn't spoke, "Maybe that's why in the end they started cutting me out, because they knew what happened."
"I doubt it."
"Why?"
He sighed; "Who's to say they even bumped into us, or for that matter, saw us?"
Her face turned hard and he knew he'd said the wrong thing. She moved from the window and down the corridor. "Wait-" he began, but she'd already disappeared down one of the corridors. He bit his lip and sat down on the window seat, now his turn to watch the cold winter's day. He would sit here until she came back. He would guard the seat for her, just in case they came.