Lit on fire to warm others

The snow was prominent, covering every inch of the shared land. The soft winds blow snow inch by inch.

A girl sits alone near an abandoned-looking building, still in her school uniform; brown dress with a black apron providing little comfort in the cold. Bantiki's still in her blonde hair.

"Привет, Ника." A boy greeted her.

"Здравствуйте, Вилен." She welcomed back. "Что ты здесь делаешь?"

He shrugged before sitting beside her on the curb, "Я видел тебя."

For a moment the two sat in silence; the breeze being the only sound they could hear. It was a peaceful moment in one's life, they couldn't help but enjoy each other's company.  And in the silence, the girl eyed the blonde boy's appearance—he too was still in uniform. But the boy's prestige uniform did not hide how beat he was. A bruise on his left eye, lines of scaring above his right, specks of dried blood on his hands, scratches on his arm.

School seemed more rough to him than usual.
"Вилен, что сегодня произошло?" Her tone was full of worry.

The boy sighed, the puff shown in the cold climate. "Ты знаешь, что случилось, Ника." He sneered.

Her eyes were full of worry for her friend. He could never seem relaxed unless it was in the cold or with her. It was worrying how no one else seemed to care for the boy. He might be a bit different, but he didn't deserve this. Not at all.

Thinking quickly, she stood tall moving over to the small piles of snow on the dead grass behind them, taking a ball of snow in her hands. Rounding it out, she looked back at her friend, seeing how confused he looked. The girl called out, "Лови!" The snow was thrown in his direction.

"Ника-" Before becoming hushed by the icy ball hit him on his shoulder, barely touching his neck. "Ника! Как холодно!"

Hearing him whine, she couldn't help but give a small laugh. "Сделайте шар!" She exclaimed, following her own directions and making one more snowball. Having less of a lucky shot from the lower slope, it landed on his shoe.

"О, ты-!" Slowly scooping up the snow, he realized how much he missed his gloves; the icy plunge of the snow a contrasting feeling of the warmth of the rest of his body. They weren't the best produced, but they at least kept him warm...

Stupid Akim.

"Вот, лови!" He stammered out.

Small bits of ice hit the girl's black apron, soaking the material. A smile appeared on her face, cheeks reddened by the cold; she laughed. "Вот и все!" Adjusting her woolen hat, she exclaimed, "Ты можешь лучше, Вилен! Давай!"

He rolled his eyes at her comment. He never really participated in such activities, always having to go home so soon. "Тише, Ника."
"Ак!" It landed on her chest, chilling her uncovered neck. "Холодно!" She complained, but still, she fought back. Gloved hands picked up more frost and formed it into a sphere.

The two tossed snow at each other, the cold environment didn't affect them as the excitement of such a childish joy kept them warm and alive. Eventually, though, it had to end.

One of their throws had hit one of the cars parked in front of the small patch of once-grass now snowed area. All movement had stopped–no more spheres laid in their hands.

"О." She gasped, looking around at the area hoping no one saw that. "Вилен!"

He looks at her, confused and a bit frustrated at the accusation."Что! Это была ты, Ника!"