Cold
She is always cold even when everyone else is walking around in tank tops and shorts.
Will this intriguing stranger have what it takes to warm her up?
Will this intriguing stranger have what it takes to warm her up?
It is a beautiful day. The sun is shining bright and there is a warm breeze. She walks through the downtown core, on her way to the train. The breeze picks up. A woman walks past her, holding down her skirt. The man with her smiles, staring at her legs. The rhythmic sound of her heels tapping on the sidewalk quickens as they go.
She pulls her sweater around herself a little tighter, shivering. All around her are people in their summer clothes. Flaunting their best assets. Long legs in skirts, beautiful heels, low cut tops. She wishes she could dress like other women when the heat picks up in the summer but she can't. She pouts in remorse. The summers here are so short, the winters long and brutal. They must be brutal because even by the end of summer she still hasn't warmed up . She walks on to the train platform, being sure to stay away from the edge. When the train comes it brings with it a big gust of wind. Her hair blows in her face. She tries to smooth it with her free hand, still clutching her sweater tightly around herself with the other. She waits for other passengers to board the train before getting on. Searching, she chooses a seat where there are no open windows. There is a man with a lot of piercings standing in front of her. She looks at the holes in his ears and wonders if they hurt. She sees a tattoo poking out of his muscle shirt on his right shoulder blade. Tilting her head, she tries to get a better look but is unable to make out what it is. When he reaches up and grabs the lever to open the window, the muscles in his arm flex. She cringes, preparing herself for the cold that will come . She can't prepare herself enough and shivers as the gust of wind hits her. She groans and pulls her sweater even tighter. Just as he is putting his arm down he turns to face her. "Sorry miss." he says, a hint of annoyance in his voice, "are you," the annoyance turning to amusement, "cold?" She tries hard not to roll her eyes. "Yes, actually, I am." It is hard to sound polite. Obviously anyone who looks at her would be able to tell that she is cold. What a stupid question. He raises his eyebrows and she stares at him, trying not to glare. Slowly he reaches back up and closes the window. "Sorry." 'Well, that was nice,' she thinks to herself. She has never had that before. Usually people could care less . She sighs. "Thank you." There is no expression on his face as he looks at her. "You're welcome." His pale brown eyes look at her a moment longer before he winks and turns away. She stares at the back of his head; streaked with black and red hair. It has a messy look to it but she thinks he does that on purpose. The train pulls to her station. She gets up and goes to the door in front of the man. While she is standing at the door waiting for it to open, she turns slightly to glance at him. Disappointed, but not surprised, she sees he is looking out the window and doesn’t seem to notice her. She steps off the train and heads towards the stairs. The doors close and the train dings to signal its departure. Wanting one last glance at the man before the train leaves, she glances over shoulder. She pouts when she sees a lady in the window instead. Turning towards the stairs to leave the station, she walks into something, or rather, someone. She puts her hand up to brace herself. Beneath her hand is a strong chest. "Shit," he exclaims grasping her fingers, "you really are cold." Embarrassed, she quickly pulls her hand away from his and puts it in her sweater. She puts her head down and tries to side step him but he steps with her. "I'm Adam," he says and she looks up at him again, "may I buy you a coffee to help you warm up before you run away?" He smiles and she finds herself nodding. 'What am I doing?' she thinks to herself. 'Am I completely crazy? Going out for coffee with a complete stranger?' "I know a great coffee shop up the block from here," he says, pulling her away from her panicked thoughts. Again she nods. "What's your name?" 'Right,' she thinks, 'I am such a loser, I have no social skills, I haven't even told him my name yet.' She starts walking, shaking her head in disbelief at herself. A few steps later she realizes she is walking alone. Slowly she turns around and sees him standing there. Big, strong arms folded across his big, strong chest with a smirk on his face she would like to wipe off. He raises an eyebrow at her before taking a step towards her. She can't help but stare and really wishes she would say something but it would seem that she has lost her voice. He stretches out his hand to her. "Hi, my name is Adam." Reluctantly she takes his hand, "Sarah," her voice squeaks. His hand is much larger and warmer than her own. Strong and yet soft to the touch. "That's a pretty name." His smile is soft, polite. "Your hands are very cold Sarah. May I buy you a coffee?" She smiles back at him, not pulling her hand away this time. Slowly she nods. "That would be nice Adam. Thank you." (C) Rachel Rennie
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