True Warmth
I slip into to its warm embrace.
I chuckle, a bit of my soul leaping from my lips as I do.
Warm embrace. I mutter to myself, shaking my head.
The night closes in and the wind whispers across the water. My hair falls behind me and dances.
My cold heart not even chilled by the cruel fangs of the air as it bites at me, trying to gnaw away at my shirt.
My mug has long lost it's breathe, too weak to stay awake in this weather.
I plead that smooth feeling to roll over me, to make this seem right, but it doesn't come.
The book didn't help, the music didn't help, and the tea certainly wasn't going to be doing much now.
My eyes float slowly as I fight fatigue and weakness.
A sigh dives from my mouth into the darkness just at the wind picks up.
My hair leaps now, wishing only to return to the warmth.
The fangs dig deeper and I feel my stomach clench as a single tooth breaks the skin.
Finally, it happens. A wave washes over me and I feel better. My stomach relaxes and my hair calms down. True warmth washes over me and I am at peace in the bitter cold of the old November night.
I smile for what proves to be the first time in too great of a time.
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