It was cold outside. I tightened the scarf around my neck. The snow was beautiful, like nothing I've ever seen. It was something about it. It was snowing, no big deal. This was a big deal. I couldn't help but to jump and run around like a child laughing for myself. It was already dark outside. The white snow was fighting the darkness from above. Everything seemed to be on the snows side, the street lights, the light from the stores, the stars and my smile. I ran to the park. There was a small path in the snow leading to the small bridge between the two ponds. I sat down on the middle, in the snow. I wondered if the ice was strong enough to hold me.
I skipped down to the shoreline. I grabbed a hold of the railing on the bridge. Slowly I made my way out on the ice, never leaving the safety of the railing. Feeling safe enough I let go of the railing to blow hot air in my hands. As much as it was a beautiful day, it was a cold one. "It's funny how we meet at the strangest places." I jumped breaking the ice. I let out a scream and pulled myself up. I didn't want to get cold, or drown for that matter, I think. Death was a funny subject. "Deidara, you startled me." He stood on the low bridge drawing on a canvas. "You have to make a rough draw before you paint, to make it magnificent. I was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable watching you without you knowing it." I wanted to see what he was drawing, but I determined not to do so. An artist needs privacy.
So, I would just sit there. The snow beneath me melting, making me even colder. A word wasn't spoken. It didn't need to words to tell that we had drifted apart. We didn't know each other anymore. The one link we had together was wiped away. Replaced with a better life. The right thing to do would be to get up and leave. I wasn't known for making the good choices. I never had, and if it meant giving up the one good thing for my childhood, my first love, I'd rather be sitting. He, himself didn't say anything. Maybe he was too busy drawing, maybe he as well was thinking. No, he's an artist, he's impulsive. Not that I knew if it was true or not. I didn't know him anymore. I wanted to get to know him. What did I know? He might not had changed at all. Then again, did I ever really know him? Why would I feel so strongly towards someone I didn't know?
The silence was overwhelming. I wanted to say something, but didn't find the words. Maybe I didn't want to break it, maybe I was scared of what would happen. Like my voice could shatter him. "Care for some tea now, you look cold." I nodded and got up. He packed together his things. I still didn't want to speak. We rushed past every café on our way. By the looks of it, we were heading over to his place. "Do you like your life now, I mean… Do you like it here?" He stopped. I stopped and turned around when I noticed. His bottom lip was quivering. It could have been a cold. I was really cold outside, but it wouldn't explain the tear in his eye. He didn't answer but rushed past me, I didn't see the problem with following him. He didn't speak against it, but I kept my distance.
This time I didn't fell up the stairs. No, this time I was doing it right. When he didn't slam the door in my face I was sure that he wanted me around. He took of his jacket. I dropped my pants. They were wet, and cold. He just looked at me and went into a different room. I didn't take of my jacket. It was my only source of heat. I didn't expect him to return so fast, or with a new pair of pants. "I think they'll fit you," he said and threw them at me. He went over to his kitchen corner. I tried on the pants. They were rather too big than too small. He hadn't really gained that much weight since he was… Since he was sick. With legs placed in a baggy pair of dark jeans I walked over to him. "It's empty," he suddenly said. There was lots of water in the tea boiler so I didn't know what he was talking about. "You asked me if I liked my life now, it's plain and empty."
The mood had suddenly changed again. Now it was unpleasant. I didn't know what to tell him. I just sat there sipping my tea. "I miss my old life." He broke the silence. I put my cup down on the table. "It isn't supposed to be like this, I'd start doing drugs any day if it gave back the relationship we had." I couldn't help smiling. It was on the top of the list of what to don't in situations like this. "I've never been happy without you." It was true, I hadn't been happy. Awkward silence followed again. None of us knew what to do, or what to say. Drinking tea in silence was easier.
How he ended up on top of me was easy to explain. I had started poking him, so he decided to take revenge. How his lips ended up on mine, we needed each other. How my top ended up on the floor, he had spilled tea on me laughing. How his shirt ended up on the floor, I wanted it off. How we ended up in bed, it was bigger than a sofa. How we should break someone's heart, we developed an affair.