Hold You

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A young girl woke to the sound of a door closing softly. Curious, she quickly threw back the covers from her tiny frame and lowered herself down from her large bed. The girl scampered throughout the house to a window at the front of the building.

In the frozen yard was an elderly woman, the child's grandmother, surrounded by an ocean of white. Glittering snow fell gently to the ground as the lady's silver hair glinted in the moonlight. Fluffy snowflakes fluttered onto the aged woman as she twirled around. She danced gracefully into the night, her eyes closed peacefully as she smiled to the heavens. Her hands glided through the sparkling air. It was a beautiful and tender sight to behold.

The child could imagine the person she had always known as 'Grandma' as a young woman. She could see her dancing contently, reaching for every flake of ice as the man she had grown to love chipped away at a sculpture above her.

Her grandmother's words from the night before came back to the girl as she watched her with wide eyes:

"Sometimes you can still catch me dancing in it."

The woman stilled, staring longingly at the source of the snow, the distant mansion atop the mountain. As her grandma tore her eyes from the sight and made her way back towards the house, the child hid inside a coat closet.

Listening intently at the doorframe, the little girl waited until her grandmother's footsteps faded away. Spotting her baby blue jacket hanging in front of her, she snatched it off the hook and threw it on. She tiptoed across the wooden floor before reaching for the key on the dinner table, unlocking the door, and slipping out into the cool night. Zipping up her slick jacket, she trudged through the ankle-deep snow in her jammies. She slipped the key into her pocket as she headed for the base of the mountain. The young girl was on a mission.

High above, a peculiar man paused his ice shearing as his attention was caught on a minuscule figure scaling the mountainside. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight of a tiny, brunette child approaching the rusted gates to his home. No one ever came up here. Not in a long, long time.

The man watched as the girl slid between the bars of the gate with ease. She wandered around the front garden, staring at the snow-capped topiary in wonder. The watching figure accidentally repositioned his foot as he tried to get a better look at her. The crunch of smashed ice shards carried down to the small girl's ears. Seemingly snapping out of a trance, she glanced up as the dark figure slid out of sight.

Straitening up, the child trucked to the front door. It chafed against its bindings as the girl pushed against it with all her might, grunting as it finally creaked open. Taking in the view, she eyed the big metal machines set up within the large room. Recalling her grandmother's comments on where the man lived, she started for the ancient staircase.

But at the sight of a menacing cloaked figure, she froze, her heart prancing at 100 miles per hour. It was a while before she realized it was just a cobwebbed stone statue. Albeit a frightening one, but still just a statue. Carrying on a bit more cautiously, she climbed up the steps as their creaks echoed eerily around the large, still house.

Nearly out of breath, she reached the top floor. The girl clutched her jacket more securely around her to protect against the harsh draft being let in by the destroyed roof. Shivering in the biting night air, she glanced around her, searching for him.

"H-Hello?" Her breath curled into wispy clouds of smoke before escaping into the moonlit sky. The faintest metallic snip! could be heard from the corner of the room. Turning to face the sound, the child saw a tall, lanky figure moving in the shadows. The man stepped tentatively into the silver light.

The girl let out a soft gasp at the sight of the large pairs of scissors that glinted in the moonlight. But this gasp was more because the girl was startled than scared, for the young child was not afraid of the character before her. No, instead she was curious about him.

He was just as her grandmother had described him. A fitted outfit of leather and buckles. Untidy raven black hair that stuck out in every which way. Plum lips shaped into a solemn pout. Shining scars embedded into his incredibly pale face.

But to the young girl, the most striking feature of this man's face were his big, sunken eyes. It was as though someone had dug two dark pits and filled them to the brim with somber loneliness and brokenness. If you looked close enough, you could nearly see the events that took place years ago playing in the man's brain like a film on loop. The father who didn't wake up. The people who hurt him. The goodbyes.

"Edward?" the girl asked quietly. After a moment's hesitation, the man nodded his head slightly. A grin broke over her face.

Without warning, she ran at him, colliding with his torso. The contact shocked him, causing him to jolt and almost skewer the child in the back with the blades attached to his wrists. He remained wide-eyed and tense as she threw her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his firm chest.

"My grandma told me all about you." She mumbled into him. The girl looked up to face him.

"She said that she wished you had someone here to hold you."

Edward stared intently at her face. She had warm, chocolate eyes. Her eyes. Kim. The corners of his lips twitched at the memory of the woman he loved. A spark of life could be seen deep within his eyes. Her granddaughter returned her face to his chest, tightening her grip around him. Edward delicately rested his arms around her small frame, being extremely careful not to harm her. His eyes slid shut in contentment before he spoke in a soft, low voice that had not been used in many years.

"Thank you."

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