You were always cold, colder still even then me. Your skin fairer, your hair lighter, you had that extra little bit that made you beautiful. Being around you was like being on display at all times. My actions, my speech, even my thoughts where tainted by your very presence, standing there, close enough for me to touch.

But at the same time you were so very far away. Far away from the world, far away from the people around you, far away from me...you were cold in another manner then. Your attitude towards life was chilling to the point that no one wanted to be around you. But that was okay, you didn't need them, right? You were a loner, a strong one, someone incapable of having real friends because no one measured up to your standards.

And then it happened. The day you broke.

I was sitting alone in the library, back in that far right corner that I know you've noticed me in before. I like that corner. It's quite and comfortable, almost like you.

You had decided to come and sit across from me because you needed the quite as well and knew full well that I wouldn't disturb you.

But I was in awe.

I was in total awe at your presence. The sun breaking in through the window was softer then normal, the quite more comforting, the chair beneath me ever so soft.

Trying hard to pay attention to my own work, I wanted to leave you in peace. But it's the way you move that draws me to you in a moment like this. With such elegant grace your slender fingers pick up that paper and place it there. They open the book directly to the correct page and then curl themselves ever so delicately around your quill, poised to record your thoughts.

Watching you write is an experience of its own. Your eyes never watch the quill but rather the blank parchment, as if you are ever so eager to fill that space as quickly as possible. Sometimes you look up, not really at anything at all, as if your mind is so far away it can hardly find its own way back to you. But this never upsets you, rather its what gets you through the day.

I've always wanted you to look at me.

I knew then that you could sense me staring and I wanted you to look up at me but you didn't. Instead your hand stayed poised above the parchment, long enough for a drop of ink to fall and splash upon the page. You swore under your breath and the back of my neck prickled with the sound.

With your free hand you reached into your bag and pulled out another piece, bringing it up onto the table and holding it there with your fingertips as if it might fly away. I wondered a bit about this unusual action but nevertheless I waited patiently for you to begin your work. The silence was nearly deafening now as you paused over the parchment, almost unaware that my breathing was hinged on your every moment.

And then another ink spot hit the table.

For a moment's time I was unsure about it but then I saw what was really going on. Your back was bent, your head arched towards the table, your face hidden from my view...and your hand was shaking.

A silent gasp escaped my lips as I did the unthinkable and reached across the table slowly. My right hand came in contact with your left but I only slowly ran my knuckles across your own, not really sure what I was doing, but still letting you know I was there. And without even looking at me you brought your hand up and placed it in mine, squeezing my fingers tightly.

I knew you were cold but to me you felt warm, as if, just by touching me, you reflected heat. And I almost smiled at this little fact, almost...until you suddenly looked up at me and I saw the tears in those silver orbs.

Almost crying myself, I stood immediately, not releasing your hand, and came around the side of the table. As I approached, you stood and used your grasp on my hand to pull me into you. My arms came up around your shoulders and your own came around my back and just like that we were together as one, holding on for dear life.

A shake riddled through your body and I heard you cry out into my shoulder. I felt one of your tears slide down across my hand and I was surprised that it didn't freeze in place.

You were holding me so close I could sparsely breath, though I really didn't have a care to. I just wanted you to stop hurting. I wanted it all, whatever it was, to go away so badly that I shook myself.

Not even the rays of light coming in through the window could warm my skin as I felt soft, blonde hair move through my fingers. And then I closed my eyes and listen to your heartbeat.

No sound could ever compliment the silence as well.