Who We Are by Lauren Alexandra

“It’s so cold here,”

“Cold is beautiful, don’t you think?”

Wandering through the icy streets I couldn’t help but agree with Simon. It’s so cold, but so beautiful. Every plant, every signpost, every building is delicately frosted with ice that glimmers in the cool sunlight. There’s no heat to the morning sun, the world feels crisp and I feel like I’m living in a sharp memory. The buildings contrast the sky in hues of deep reds, blues, and burnt oranges that bring fire. I quickly snap a picture of the buildings, their simple beauty almost knocking the cold breath from my lungs.

“Hey, how about we go grab a drink in here? Looks warm.” Simon gestured to a little café tucked behind the row of buildings. Flowers were peaking out from under the light snow, waving us over in the wind.

Cursive lettering that was starting to fade read, A Slice of Home.

“Of course, it looks like something straight out of a fairy tale.”

“This whole place feels magical, don’t you think?”

Walking into the warm café Simon’s glasses began to steam up, a puzzled look crossing his face as he tried to see. Looking at him here, I started to understand why he brought me here. Still, a part of me is dying for the words to come straight from his lips.

In a foreign tongue he orders us a pot of tea, which arrived in a cloud of steam alongside two slices of cake.

“Thank you for bringing me out here.” I said, catching Simon off guard.

“That’s okay, do you like it?” He asked shyly, his long lashes wet with melting snow.

“Of course I do! Like you said, there’s something so magical about this place. Which, in retrospect I suppose makes sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, seeing this place, it’s like fitting a missing piece to the puzzle.”

“And what I told you, that’s the puzzle?”

“Yeah.”

“I meant it when I said I wanted to marry you, you know.”

“I know.” I said softly, looking down my cup of tea. The steam washed over my face, warming away the frosty outside.

“Are you ready?” Simon seemed hesitant, looking around at the nearly empty coffee shop. The waitress hummed to herself as she shuffled through a decorated deck of cards, the scarf holding up her hair struggling to contain her curls. In the corner an older couple sat, leaning in close as they frowned at a crossword book.

“Yes.”

Simon reached out then, taking my hand. A jolt of electricity shot up my arm in that moment, feeling both scalding hot and burning cold all at once. Images of old willow trees and people dressed in nature and dancing flashed up between us like a veil, a celebration of life. Somewhere amongst it all was a young Simon, gold clouds leaking from his fingertips.

The imaged was quickly snapped away, but gold light seemed to be shimmering around the two of us as we sat huddled at this small table.

Simon’s eyes were bright as he looked at me, green and gold and inviting. A thin band was placed between his fingers. It’s as if the gold light is coming from the ring itself, drawing lines connecting Simon and me.

“Together?”

I felt my lips spread into a grin, cracking from the harsh weather. The snow seemed a brighter white than before, suddenly pressing against the glass to see what I would say next.

“Together.”