Title: Cold
Characters: Danny and Sam
Rating: T
Genre: Romance
Word Count: 474
Pairing: Amethyst Ocean
Sam had always loved the cold. Summer's heat felt thick and heavy and the last thing she needed in her life was more pressure bearing down on her. Winter was her time – the air was brisk and cool and open, and her breathe came light and easy. The cold snapped at her nose and fingers and her breath puffed out in fog and she felt so alive.
Despite loving the cold so much, it was a little hard to get used to how cold Danny was.
Sure, some people had cold hands, and while it was a little offsetting it wasn't anything too out of the ordinary. When she and Danny had started walking around holding hands (something they did very sparsely at first as Sam viewed the action as a way of broadcasting a relationship rather than a meaningful gesture between two people), his hand never warmed under hers, no matter how long she held it. At some points she even found her own hand getting colder. Still, she wouldn't pull away, for she knew how self-conscious Danny was about such things.
His face was just as cold when he came in close. His lips left a little chill on hers, like the wind on an autumn day. In the suffocating days of summer, when Tucker wasn't around to taunt her about it, she enjoyed sidling up to him and letting the coolness of his skin against hers combat the sweltering heat. Even on the hottest days his body remained as cold as ever, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him break into a sweat.
Perhaps the only time she could feel any change at all in his body temperature was the nights that came along, every now and again, when she and Danny were utterly alone (except for her parents in their room down the hall and they had to be quiet or else they'd get caught, but that was part of the thrill, wasn't it?). Under her feverishly warm fingers she could feel the cold that radiated from him, and though his breath came in ragged gasps and his cheeks were madly red, his body remained cold compared to hers. His fingers were cold as they trailed up her back, his tongue was cold as it slid against hers. Pressing her bare body against his caused a disorienting chill to run up her spine. The pervasive coldness was so unnatural, so strange, that she wasn't sure what to make of it the first time.
But every time she touched him or held his hand or felt the chill against her face, it was Danny, and that was all that she cared about. She would get used to the bizarre, numbing cold that his body produced, because inside was still Danny, the boy that she had always loved.