Snow, snow. Just like his hair, right? White, flowing, gentle. No. He's not gentle, is he?

Reina stared across the room, her arms folded across her chest. It was freezing, even indoors. The lighting was dim compared to the sunlight outside, she tried to avoid the windows but the even snowflakes drifting down kept catching her attention. Then there was him, sitting across the room, a grim look on his face that suggested it wasn't unlike any other day to him. She wondered if snow mattered at all to him. He was already cold, wasn't he?

Taking a deep breath, she stood. For some reason he was intimidating. Perhaps it was her constant shivering. She seemed as frail as he often believed she was. Then again, she wasn't wearing much for winter-wear. She hated poofy coats and thick layers of pants. They made her body disappear too much. Not to mention, they were annoying and made her feel stiff and awkward. That was the last feeling she ever wanted. The hot chocolate in her hands was rather warm, comforting even, as she crossed the cold room. Her seat had been warmed up, now there was suddenly cold air seeping through her jeans and crawling across her skin. She loved winter's beauty, she hated it's results.

That was the way he was, too. No matter how many times she tried to admire him, he managed to shoot her down. He might as well have been an icicle on the overhang of her house, falling down on her with elegance, landing with pain. No, no. he wouldn't like that analogy. He'd find that improper.

"Wolf!" she yelled suddenly as she approached his table. It felt good to make herself beyond noticeable. It made her cheeks flush for a brief moment as she go awkward glances from others in the room. It was a warm sensation.

Simply enough, he ignored her. A book was firmly planted in front of his eyes, and he kept his attention focused on the words. He had heard her, grimaced slightly, but tried to remain still and ignorant to her idiocy.

The failed attempt was obvious when she plopped down across from him. Still, he tried to remain isolated to the text. If he didn't look up, she might walk away. It was always a possibility, he had to have some hopes.

"It's snowing," she said happily, "Have you noticed?"

"Do I look that foolish to you?" he mumbled, still refraining from glancing at her. That was one action he tried to avoid, considering that was the perfect trigger for her to think it was alright. Aside from that, she made him uncomfortable with her common-day clothing. He hated how bare her flesh was, and he wasn't gullible enough to believe some snow was going to change that.

"Well, you kind of do," she said, setting her hot chocolate down on the table. "I mean, just look at what you're wearing. Sure, it might be warm. But, still. Do you even get cold? Or do you just wear that because you feel like it?"

There she goes babbling, annoying woman. He chose not to answer her. She seemed to have an issue with his wardrobe. It was a common battle between them.

"Well, whatever. How much snow do you think we'll get? Enough to make snow angels?" She picked up her voice at that idea. "We could imprint that long hair of yours in the snow too!"

"I would do no such action," he scowled at the idea, "and it's merely November, the snow won't get too thick on the first fall. You should know this from previous years."

"Aw, com'mon. It'd be cute. What are you reading?" She asked with a huff, ignoring him challenging her knowledge. He seemed too deeply into whatever novel he was reading to pay attention to her. He always had a distraction, it seemed.

In truth, he kept having to reread lines due to her distracting him, which her presence even more displeasing. Keeping his eyes on the book was about all he was accomplishing with her there. He was doing research, of course. She was interrupting it, of course. It was an easy pattern to figure out. He knew he'd have to switch to a different cafe now, a different town even. For some reason she kept finding him. He just didn't understand her dedication. Was she that bored? He didn't even have to put effort into making himself cold and distant. It was in his nature, yet for some reason it dragged such a social person to him time and time again.

"Nothing you'd be interested in."

"Sure I would," she said, leaning across the table. The movement caused his eyes to flicker up for a brief moment. Such a mistake. She was leaning awkwardly across the table, far too close to him. He blushed and sat back farther in the seat. Pursuit was in her character; she didn't back down, and only leaned in farther, forgetting her hot chocolate resting on the table. She bumped it with her arm, and before she could realize what she had done, it was aggressively spilling over the table, in Wolf's direction.

"Oh no," she squeaked, frantically grabbing at the tipped over cup as though she could teleport it's contents back inside if she sat it upright again. If anything, she only managed to splash more in his direction, some of which landed on his book.

"Oh gosh," she got up fast and grabbed some napkins, quickly getting to his side to mop up the hot chocolate before more spilled over on him. He was shocked for a moment, not certain what to do. Anger welled in him, but there wasn't much he could do about it but try to shrug it off and move on. The contents were hot on him, clearly it was a fresh cup, and it was rather full, endless maybe by how much of a puddle was sitting on his lap and around the chair he was sitting in. His jacket had been opened, he realized suddenly as he looked down, his white tunic stained with the soft brown of the chocolate.

"Oh! Let me get that, too!" Reina said, leaning over to touch the napkin to his stomach. He backed up in the seat.

"No, I will handle it," he grunted, looking away from her. She backed off hesitantly. He seemed angry. If it had been her in his situation, though, she probably would have been mad as well. Though, maybe not at him.

"Ok," she said softly, going back to the table. She looked at him as he stood up. His normal, clean composure was surely ruined, at least for now. He grabbed up his book, something he had managed to ignore, or show no reaction to, and stepped away from her. He didn't intend on standing around to help her clean, it was her own mess. He needed to get back to his hotel to clean up, he didn't want to stand around in public anymore the way he was.

"I'm sorry," she said, catching up to him. He glanced back. Somehow the table was furiously wiped clean. He didn't understand how she managed it that quickly.

"I must go now," he declared, wandering out of the building. The cold wind swept in, causing her to freeze up and let him go. She sighed and plopped down into another empty chair, leaning her elbows on the table so she could rest her head in her hands. She watched snowflakes falling as another round of hot chocolate was served to her. She imagined Wolf out there in the snow. He would blend well with it, it seemed like a natural environment for him. As quickly as the snow had started, it was now on it's last few flakes for the day.

As quickly as I find him, he leaves again.