A/N: Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers. I hope you all read my changes to Chapter 1. I realize its not exactly faithful to the original story, but it speeds things up a bit...

NB: ~0~ means a skip in time, not a change of perspective.

Anyways, Hope you all like it...

Chapter 3: A Freezing Sensation

Her feet were sore and her hands were freezing as she ran carelessly along the sidewalk. Clara did not know or care where she was going, as long as it was away. Away from that building, away from that office, away from that slimy man with his wandering hands, away from her unfeeling father. She couldn't quite remember how it had happened, but somehow she had fled the place and was now running through the streets of Boston in whichever way her feet would take her. Stopping at an intersection she glanced up at the sky. Small snowflakes, the kind that foretold heavy snowfall, were floating from the grey clouds above. Clara could not remember when the snow had started, but in her revealing red dress, stiletto heels and flimsy cardigan, she was in no way appropriately dressed for the weather. Slowly gazing around, she realized that she was completely lost. The houses and trees were all unfamiliar, and there was no one in sight to ask for directions. Figuring the best idea was to keep going, she wrapped the thin cardigan tightly around herself and pushed her way through the bone chilling wind.

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Clara did not know how long she had been walking. The cold was quickly rendering her brain dysfunctional, and the only thing keeping her going was a stubborn determination to beat the storm. The snow had picked up and there was a thick coating of white on everything around her. If she hadn't been so cold she might have noticed how beautiful the landscape looked in its blanket of white. However, Clara was in no position to admire anything. Her fingers were a pale shade of blue and her teeth had begun chattering long ago. Pushing valiantly through the harsh wind and flying snow, she came upon a street that to her numbed brain looked more promising than the others. She was making slow but steady progress along the street when her foot slipped off the sidewalk, landing in a large pile of snow left over form the last storm. Shuddering with the painful shock of cold, she tried to pull her foot out of the snow bank. However, her foot refused to be pulled from the icy embankment. Her weak form struggling vainly against the prison, she thought about all her wrong turns, how lost she was, and most of all, how much her father had hurt her. These morbid thoughts brought tears to her eyes, which soon overflowed, freezing on her cheeks. With one final yank, her foot came out of the snow bank with a large crack, and she staggered backwards in pain, before falling into the snow behind her, and feeling no more.

Nathaniel was cowering in the darkness of his attic when they came. Softly, like wisps of smoke, they tugged at his fur and clothing, pushing and pulling at him. He made to brush them off, worried now that his mind was playing tricks on him. But the breeze was insistent, and he eventually pushed himself to his feet and let the wind guide him to the window.

Outside was a swirling vortex of snow, a white, impenetrably cold image that made Nathaniel pull away from the cold glass of the window. However, he had no sooner pulled away from the window than the breeze resumed its efforts to push him against the windowpane, the breeze trying vainly to show him something. He was about to turn away from the glass when his gaze landed on something red against the white of the snow. Pressing his face against the window, he tried to focus on the vivid form, but only succeeded in fogging the window. Giving up, he pushed himself away, pacing back towards the door. He was about to turn to the darkness of the corner when the breeze returned, tugging him out the door. Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he forced down his anger and let the wind pull him down the enormous flight of stairs in the center of his townhouse. It was not until he reached the front door that the wind fell away, and he stepped back from the large wooden door, muttering,

"Oh no, I'm so not going out—" he stopped when the door swung open of its own accord, and the wind forced him out the door. He turned around, trying to push back into the warmth of his house, when something red flickered in the corner of his eye, a splotch of color against the monotone, white landscape around him. He paused, and made his way to the side of the majestic columned front porch in order to get a better view of the blemish on the snow. Peering closer, he realized in horror that the red form against the snow was a girl clothed only in a thin red dress. Her long legs stretched out before her, almost as white as her snowy bed, and her brown hair was spread in a halo around her head. Nathaniel shook his head, and turned back to the house, muttering about fools and lunatics, when a forceful shove from the wind stopped him in his tracks.

"No, no, NO!" he growled, addressing the breeze. "If she is crazy enough to make that snow bank her bed, then so be it." He said and moved to the reenter the house, but the breeze stopped him again, this time maintaining pressure on his midsection. "What do you want me to do," he snarled, "bring the madwoman inside?" and with that question, the breeze disappeared, ending the pressure against Nathaniel. "Yes?" he said shocked. "Are you nuts? She could be deranged! Or sick! Or—or—" he stopped looking once more out at the girl. She looked so pitiful against the white backdrop, and the snow had already begun to build up on top of her. "Very well." He said quietly, then snapping his head around to the place were the wind had formerly been, he said with more force, "But I don't want to have anything, I repeat, anything, to do with her once she's inside. Do you understand me?" and with that question hanging in the air, he walked down the front steps and into the blizzard. The icy wind of the storm tore at his clothing and fur, and the hair around his feet quickly became wet. He made his way to where the girl lay, and after a moments hesitation, bent down and lifted her into his arms. She was unconscious, and her ankle was hanging in an abnormal position, but when he pulled her against his chest, she curled against him, seeking the warmth of his body. He gazed down at her small face, noting her delicate nose, long eyelashes and full lips before loping back to the house with her in his arms. He hurried inside, and the door slammed shut behind him.

"Are any of the guest rooms made up?" he asked quickly, breathing hard, and clutching his burden against his chest. The breeze latched hold of the fur near his paw and tugged him forward. He followed the wind as it led him up the grand staircase and into the largest of his guest rooms. He walked quietly to the bed, and laid the girl—no, woman—on the coverlet. She grumbled in her sleep, and clung to the fabric of his extra-large tee shirt—along with his sweat pants, the casual shirt was the only item of clothing that still fit him. Reaching up with gentle fingers—if they could be called that—he loosened her death grip on his shirt and straightened, stepping away from the bed. Gazing once more at her unconscious form, he muttered to the breeze, "Take care of her," before fleeing the room. As he raced down the hallway towards his dark sanctuary, he berated himself for being so sentimental. One of his rules when dealing with women was to never develop feelings for them, and here he was, two minutes after carrying her delicate form to her room, asking his breeze to 'take care of her.' He didn't even know her name! that never stopped you before, a nagging voice said clearly in the back of his mind. Shutting off the annoying voice, and reaching his attic, he threw open the door and smashed the nearest piece of furniture in his attempt to let out all his bottled up frustration. But smashing things only worked so well, and he soon found himself crouched by his round mirror, saying the words,

"Show me the girl."

Hope you all liked it. i really hope Nathaniel wasn't too out of character, but tell me what you think. please? pleeeeeaase! savethemadscientist made a very relevant point in their review. An author doesn't just ask for reviews for the 'feel good' of knowing people are reading their work, but reviews help the writer to know what the reader thinks of the story. often times I know exactly what is going on, and it all makes sense to me, but my mom or dad will read it and be completely confused. as the story is our brainchild, we authors have a very narrow perspective on how the story turns out.

Long story short: I really look forward to you reviews; they are incredibly important to me. and for those of you who are reviewing, thank you so so so much.

savethemadscientist: yes, her father is awful. however, unfortunately, this is not the last we're going to see of him...poor clara. thank you thank you thank you. you are my new favorite person. truly.

kkkkkk: haha yes, but that would leave us without our protagonist/antagonist, and we can't have that happen, now can we...=] thanks for the review, hope you keep reading!

Lauren: a really awful childhood, i imagine, but she didn't tell me that part of the story, so i wouldn't know =P yeah, you know how i said she was a workaholic (well in nicer terms) yeah, that was a result of her father. =[ I honestly don't think Nathaniel's father cares all that much about his son. I mean, he's proud on some perverted level about Nathaniel's 'escapades' but he really doesn't have any heart to care about him...as far as i know, we wont see much more of Nathaniel's father, although that could change, however, Clara's father will come up again, as he's rather important. I really want to develop their relationship. As the title aptly implies this story is a study of all the different types of love, not just the romantic type. at least, it is in theory. we'll see if that comes out...as for her reaction when her dad left, I tried to approach that like i would in her footsteps. and yes, i would most certainly take a stop by the freezer in that situation, don't tell my mother ;) thanks for your reviews, they are really inspiring, and give me a lot to think about when I write my story. thank you thank you thank you

I think that's it (for now) Hope you're enjoying the story! if you have a heart, pleasey please click the little link at the bottom of this page. if its just "good" or "bad" thats ok by me! just let me know you're reading it. merci beaucoup, grazie mille, danke, ありがとう, 谢谢, σας ευχαριστούμε, 감사하십시오, obrigado, вы, gracias...and thank you! and if i got any of those wrong, i apologize, i blame it all on my mac translator... =]

A-N