January 2016) - The biting cold - Sebastien

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January 2016) - The biting cold - Sebastien

Post by Eryn » Thu Nov 14, 2019 5:01 pm

March in Quebec was the very beginning of Spring. The earliest flowers peeked through frost and snow, giving color and greenery back to the world. Slowly, the populace returned to the parks, taking in the afternoon hours of brightest sun, for they were precious and fleeting. Birds sang in the trees, still just the Winter residents, the robins and jays, bringing what color the frail petals couldn’t. It was enough to draw even the saddest out from the depths of their despair.

Which was precisely how it had coaxed Sébastien out into the daylight. Ever since his mother had passed, he’d stayed in the house. It wasn’t healthy, his father said. It wasn’t normal the staff whispered. They didn’t think he could hear them. The whispers lingered in his bones.

He could always hear them.

The promise of something brighter, something newer, from the world outside he couldn’t say no to. Between the flowers, the trees, and the still crisp air that bit at his nose and ears, it was enough to fortify him. The beauty was couched in the lingering cold of the failing Winter, and it made it bearable. Otherwise this whole thing would be too saccharine, too unacceptably peaceful for the grief that still gripped his heart. It ought to grip the whole world as far as he was concerned. It made him turn his gaze away from the blanket of snowdrops that had emerged along the edge of the path.

Which was when he saw her.

His breath fled him like a coward from a field — Or perhaps it was stolen by the sudden gust of wind that ripped through the Springtime branches. The wind whipped and whirled, icy cold and grasping for purchase on a thawing world. It found it on one floral hat, tossed from the head of a beautiful young woman and then left behind upon the surface of the river.

The ice cold, March river.

And what did fool Sébastien do? He pulled off his coat.

He kicked off his shoes as he stepped over the flowerbeds.

His kerchief was discarded last, fated to be forgotten in the pansy beds.

The water was bitter, cold, numbing near immediately. Sébastien’s body convulsed in answer to the sudden assault of Winter’s remains. Down to his bones he shivered even as fought to the surface. At least he was a stronger swimmer. The cold didn’t let up, it took no prisoners, it would kill him if he stayed in here. But he had time to fetch the thieved hat, and it wasn’t until he was pulling himself back upon the shore that he regretted his decision.

Who could have regrets in the wake of that smile, though?

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Re: January 2016) - The biting cold - Sebastien

Post by Patricia » Sat Dec 07, 2019 5:37 pm


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