'Hey, Rae? Would you like to… uh… we could go get lunch, or…?'

Gar hesitated, gauging her reaction. Raven didn't respond at first. She turned from her bookshelf, fingers tracing the spine of a favourite novel, and looked him up and down, from his faux-leather trainers and dark jeans to his chequered winter shirt and uncertain grin.

'Why the hell not,' she thought to herself. She threw her short jacket on, slipped her feet into the thin shoes next to the bed, then took his arm in hers. 'Walk with me.'

He tried to say something, but she put her finger to his lips and stopped him.

Outside, the day was bright. The winter sun shone brightly through the bare branches, wind whipping those dark switchblades back and forth with sudden, swift force. Raven stepped neatly around puddles and broken concrete, forcing Gar to lean at improbable angles and take leaping jumps while she navigated the world around her with uncharacteristic skill. Every slight separation strained the fragile link between them, but it held. Fitting, she thought. Practically symbolic.

She could tell that he wanted to talk; wanted to say something, anything, but perhaps he sensed that she wanted silence. Gar was good like that. Even if he didn't normally know when to keep his mouth shut, he could tell when she needed the familiarity of the cold quiet. So they didn't speak.

Raven could feel his emotion radiating from his solid form, a wash of bright hopes and tentative nervousness and more than anything else the heat of his beating heart bursting out of his chest. She could feel it too, that slight physical contact connecting them like a livewire. But she didn't say anything. She didn't need to.

The cold was starting to chill Raven's skin despite her energetic movement, but that was what she wanted. She led him steadily through aisles of grimy plastic bins, over crumbling patched pavement, and down back alleys with loose bricks, discarded joints in the gutter and rusted iron bars over basement windows. She took deep breaths from the clouds of hot air surging from the ancient filters on the walls, and let the fingers on her free hand brush umber metallic flakes from the loose panels covering battered AC units. As Raven watched, the flakes drifted down slowly and mingled with the dead leaves and meltwater swimming down the road. Her mind drifted then, too, picturing herself in so many different places and scenarios. Gar was always there by her side, arm through hers as they gazed out over sunlit bays and huge mountain vistas, holding on to her for dear life as he saw the world through her eyes.

Raven felt Gar's presence carefully, then, and for a moment took in her surroundings on his more physical level. She noticed the way the crook of his elbow hooked into hers so tightly, unwilling to let go. There was a tense energy in everything he did, she noticed; he must have been so uncertain. What was happening? What was she doing? Did she like him or didn't she? He hadn't been sure, she knew that. Gar had always been wary of accidentally overstepping the mark. Raven had just been waiting for him to forget the mark entirely and come to her. Because it was fun watching him squirm.

Now, though, she was waiting for the cold. It had already infiltrated her inadequate jacket, making the hair on her arms stand up and her spine twinge in protest. Her fingers were frozen through, her nose and ears red with the cold. Her lips were cracking and her cheekbones regularly grazed the breeze. Raven felt the first shudder in her bones as the temperature took hold, and knew it was time.

As they reached the end of an alley, Raven stopped. Gar let out a sharp, sudden breath, and stumbled over his own feet for a moment before stopping.

'Rae? What –'

Before them, across the bustling street, there was a small tea and coffee shop. It had, Raven thought, a beautifully flawed booklike quality, with its inviting warm look, wooden sign and cramped front like it had been squashed between two other buildings. Gar started forwards again, heading for the café.

'Looks like a nice place. Can't wait to get out of the c-'

He was cut off again by Raven's arm, which remained quite still. He turned back, confused again. She scanned the doubtful expression on his face, critical as ever. He looked adorably lost when he wasn't in control, she thought.

She pulled him back into the alley, just round the corner, so they weren't visible from the street. Gar started to say something, but with a sudden strength she grabbed his shoulders, pushed him against the wall and pressed her lips against his.

Gar flinched. The world seemed to freeze, then melt; his heart exploded inside his chest and the only thing that existed was the two of them. The cold was gone, the universe was gone, but he could see it all at once, and Raven was holding him.

She bit down gently on his lip and felt his arms jerk up to her back as he broke from the perfect nectar and ambrosia of her mouth. Pulling away, Raven grinned, licking the faintest trace of blood from her lips, and looked up at Gar's awed, loving face gazing back down at her as if she were some sort of untouchable goddess. He'd done the impossible, but she felt that burning ecstatic victory, and a deep desire in her heart to do it again. Raven felt her own skinny frame shudder slightly in his arms, and then gave in - pressing her body against his, allowing the warmth to flood between them and fuse them together.

They were both left trembling and shaking for a good while afterwards, but – as you could see from the warmth in their eyes and the closeness in the way they walked together – it had nothing to do with the cold.