She left the screaming crowd and sat next to me in the snow. I watched her pull the piece of stale bread she snitched from the market earlier from her pocket and break it in half. I took the smaller piece.

“Why do people come here every year? I really don't get it. All they do is take a few swigs of beer and maybe shag the person they've been talking up all night. They don't even remember any of it, except for the awful hangover and maybe the baby that comes after that.”

I must have looked extremely disgruntled because she laughed at the sky. It was mid-December but I didn't feel so cold anymore. I loved the way she laughed.

“Maybe it's because they don't like feeling alone.”

Her eyes were soft and they reminded me of the sea. I've always been afraid of the water but I could drown in those eyes. They drank me in, and I felt naked. I imagined what her lips would feel like against me, how fast her heart would beat if I pulled her to my chest, how she'd look in the morning, all fatigued and drowsy and absolutely beautiful.

She was killing me. Slowly.

I noticed that her feet were bare and I quickly pulled off my shoes for her. My socks were wet with the snow, and she laughed at me again.

“Thanks. You always know what to do.”

I felt my heart rise up and fall back into myself like the tide. It wore away my resolve and I wanted to kiss her, right then and there. But I didn't.

She didn't take the shoes, but she walked away. Her wiry legs melted in with the crowd and I wanted to tear my heart out of my chest. The snow probably stung her feet but I knew that she took it like the autumn winds; she had walls no one could break down and I loved her for that.

I didn't understand how the best thing that has ever happened to this world could be the worst thing that has ever happened to me.