Chapter 37 - Cold

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Quackity POV

October took the world by storm.

On the coldest nights, I woke up sweating. Thrashing on my mattress, sheets tangled around my legs, hair a frazzled mess falling into my eyes. The chill set in, seeping up my thread-bare blankets, settling deep in my bones. The nightmares came in with the cold, seeking the warmth of the undersides of my eyelids, the shelter of the forefront of my mind.

Everything bad in my life was associated with the cold. The persistent shiver that came with working outside, the icy glares that came with staying inside. In my dreams, everything was cold. I was surrounded by it, drowning in it. Like skating on a frozen lake and having the thin layer of ice crumble beneath your feet, giving way to the water beneath. I never had time to brace myself, to catch my breath, and I was left fighting for air and gulping lungs of ice. Everything froze over, and I couldn't even try to swim up and save myself because cold, dead hands wrapped around my ankles and pulled me down further, spreading their terrible chill like a disease. The bubbles that slipped out of my mouth froze before they ever reached the surface.

And then I sat up with a sudden gasp, snapping awake to be met with a dark, silent room. Out of pure, terrible instinct, I reached out to touch the body at my side, to comfort myself with the presence, the sheer warmth of someone else. But that side of the bed was empty. It had been for a month, now.

It had been a month. I hated myself for not getting past it. I hated myself for wanting to. I hated the way I found myself looking for him around every corner or thinking of something to say to him. I hated the way the world kept going, kept turning, kept moving on like my world hadn't stopped and died and withered with him. I hated him for leaving. I hated myself for letting him go. I hated the cold. I hated that, now that he was gone, there was no one to keep me warm.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

I could hear him coming from a mile away. Feet pounding, chest heaving, eyes blazing. I opened my door at the sound of a knock and felt no surprise to see the ram had paid me a visit. "Schlatt," I greeted, feeling small compared to his towering height.

He smiled down at me, canines flashing. "Quackity! I've been looking for you."

"Why?"

Schlatt's confidence and bravado were incapable of faltering, but if it were possible, my unenthusiastic response would have caused some hesitation. "It's nice to see some old friends every once in a while, don't you think?"

I pursed my lips and nodded, shrinking away from the wind and stepping aside to let him in. He followed happily, making himself at home in an armchair by the fireplace. It was empty and unused. I had never felt cold in this house before.

"So, Quackity," Schlatt continued, suddenly serious. I braced myself. "I came to check in on you. I know it's been hard, what with Sapna-"

"I'm fine," I cut him off, shoulders hunched.

He raised a patient eyebrow as if he had expected this. "Are you sure?"

I looked him in the eye then. "Positive."

Schlatt shook his head like I was a silly, stupid little kid. "No one has seen or heard from you since the news got out."

"Well, now you have. Satisfied?"

"I'm worried about you," Schlatt said.

"Don't be."

"You're my friend."

"Don't be."

Schlatt sighed. "I am always here for you, even if it doesn't seem like it. Losing someone is a very hard thing, but talking to someone about it can help-"

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