He sat, his elbows resting on a cold iron table, his hands grasping a Styrofoam coffee cup.
"I'm sorry." a voice came. The air around him grew cold; it had come from the presence of a girl who was sitting across from him. The cold air bit at his uncovered face. He took a sip of his hot chocolate as its warmth spilled down into his throat. He wished he had prepared for this, this cold. His black biker gloves, with the fingers cut out, were the only protection for his guitar-pick worn fingers. He trembled as he took anther sip of his drink.
"I said, 'I was sorry.' ", The voice again came sharply. The air cut through him; his whole body ached for warmth.
"I hate the cold." was his only response.
"Why?" she whispered back. She was prodding at him wanting him to reveal his thoughts to her, as he had always done.
"Because --" he sighed deeply gathering his thoughts he looked again into the girls majestic green eyes that made his thoughts wonder but they only cuased him to rember what she was doing to him.
he responded "the cold can make you do things you don't want to do. It can make you tremble, shiver, stutter, and retreat to warmer weather." he whispered again, as he took another sip of hot chocolate. He clenched his gloved hand into a fist. The room turned even harsher as the girl's anger grew from his coded answer.
"What dose that have to do with you and me?" she asked.
He trembled. "It makes you become distracted from everything, everyone around you."
"What is that supposed to mean?" she shouted at him.
A harsh bitter wind gushed against his face, whipping his long brown hair across his numb visage. "It seems -- the worst days I have ever experienced have turned me numb from the biting cold -- and why should this be different? I guess what I'm trying to say is -- when I look back on this day and try to remember you, the way your hair hung perfectly across your rosy cheeks or how sophisticated you look sitting across the table from me, I won't be able to. I'll just remember how cold it was, in the middle of the summer." the boy, shivering, took his engagement ring off his finger and placed it on the table in front of his ex-fiancée "remind your next boyfriend of that." he sarcastically muttered.
"Of what? I told you I was sorry. This engagement isn't going to work out. It's too early, too complicated, I told you that."
"Tell him, your next crush, to prepare to be cold. Remind him that the cold makes you do things you don't want to do like betray friends and lie." He gave a slight chuckle before he rose to his shaking legs "good bye, my darling, I'll miss you; but your just to cold for me. now I have to retreat to warmer weather."