THE WARM
Warmth...that's all I have ever known in my life. Hands so warm that could soothe a sore and body so warm that could provide the safe haven for the restless souls but as nature has it; we always crave for something we don't have.
I craved for something cold. Something so cold that would...
By default born in a tropical region of the earth where the summer reached its peak flashing is glory and where the winter stayed bury under its defeat forever. The winter months sometimes hid behind rain, endless dreary rain or often carried the warmth of the sun with it.
I could never understand why the winter was so shy.
A warm embrace from a lover only managed to give rise to an irrepressible anxiety. The warmth oozing from their armpits and thighs only nauseated me more and more.
So to fill the void in my life I turned to literature. After all literature is for those who are hurt. And I was hurt. Deeply wounded by the nature, my parents and my body's abnormal warmth. It's a neurological disorder, said my mother when I asked her why my body is always like this. I found my solace in reading books with characters so stone cold that their every action ran a chill down my spine. Of course, their lover wrapped in their arms would describe them as "warm", I disagreed. I knew a person so cold could never ever be warm to touch. The hypocrisy of the nature can't be that bad.
Well, literature...that's where I met her. Again. In the bowels of the literature, the library.
It was December twenty second, temperature didn't dare drop below 10 degree Celsius but I had to return a book I burrowed from the library. The people on the street clad in winter clothes; muffler, scarf, sweater, jackets, hoodies...whatnot seemed happier with their flushed cheeks and smokey breaths. Upon my mother's repeated nagging on face-time, I wore a full sleeve t-shirt and a sweat pant before leaving the home.
The walk to the library was short and uneventful. I returned my book at the reception. While the lady processed my return I noticed that the library was usually vacant.
'Winter is keeping everyone home,' the lady at the register said.
I gave her my best acknowledging smile and asked if I could roam around for a bit.
'Sure, It's pretty warm in here. Isn't it?'
Another laugh later I was in the thriller section of the library.
It was amazing how cold the pages of these books got just by sitting on these shelves. Some might find it sorrowful but I felt envy. I wonder if I stored myself away for a long period of time, would I turn cold as well?
I picked a random book and chose to sit with it by the window. The window let sleepy breeze come my way as I started reading.
I could be reading something about a lawyer and his friend when I felt a chill run down my spine. The occurrence was so rare for my body that I visibly squirmed in my seat. Then I felt a presence beside me which changed position to stand before me.
I looked up and saw the woman standing with a book clutched to her chest.
A woman with whom I made acquaintance not less than a week ago.
'I didn't mean to intrude-' my recovery from the chill had me in a daze so I could not hear her completely. Though I nodded and she joined me on the table.
A woman seeking another woman's safety wasn't a big deal so with no rectification required, we both began reading.
She approached me in the college library one lunch break and asked me out. Upon stating my disinterest in a relationship at the moment, she simply smiled and said she would still like to hang around with me, in case we clicked.
This was a week ago.
We kept stumbling before each other in the hallway and cafeteria and most frequently in the college library where I sat researching for my thesis.
'Isn't the library so warm?' she said somewhere in between.
I nodded without looking up.
'Whatcha reading?'
I had to look up. Her expectant eyes had me flip the cover of my book and allow her the access to read it herself.
With the title still facing me she placed her hand on my book and turned it towards her to properly perceive it. Her haphazard actions could not have meant anything if her hands weren't so...cold. Another chill shot through my legs.
'Oh, I haven't read this one,' she declared and let go of the book.
'Are you very cold?' I said.
'Uh? Yes. I am always cold.' she replied with an apologetic smile.
"I am always very warm,' I returned.
'Oh,' she leaned in expecting something more from me.
'What are you doing here?'
'Um, I had a book to return. The lady at the register said there is another girl and...here I am,' She wore a thick sweater and had a thick scarf wrapped around her neck so I could only see her rosy nose and small mouth that formed her words.
'I am not stalking you, I swear. I just wanted to hang out,' She said placing a cold hand on top of mine.
Her hand felt so good. Like an ice pack on a fevered body. My heart started racing and in turn definitely raised my temperature even further.
'You are heating up,' she said and let go of my hand.
I said nothing.
'Will you be alright?' the worry from her sounded so warm.
'I am sorry,' I said and left the table. Within a blink of an eye I was out the library.
My body was heating up. My exhales became hot and I started palpitating. Needless to say, her touch not only intellectually bothered me; but now my imagination was also engaged.
'Excuse me....'
'Excuse---'
'Wait for me, please'
I felt her hand grab my wrist.
'Why did you---' she fought for her breath 'ran?'
She stared at me for a long while, till she caught her breathe and became able to form words.