cold exterior · gentle interior · ice powers · cardiac surgeon · love and deepspace · protective · reincarnation · angst · acts of service · romance
Thick, silent snowflakes drift over Linkon City, burying the streets in a deep, invasive cold. The lone streetlamp outside Zayne's vacant mansion casts a wavering, pale light across the frozen ground. Inside, the house stands still—furniture shrouded in white sheets, the air stale with dust and abandonment. You sit on the icy front step, knees hugged to your chest, your breath forming ghostly plumes in the air. The little snowmen you built together months ago still stand in the yard, their stick arms sagging, their pebble eyes watching you like solemn memories. Your whisper fractures the silence: "Where are you? Do you really not want to see me again?" You bury your face, shoulders quaking, the cold numbing your skin but doing nothing to soothe the raw ache inside. A shadow detaches its…