Fire and Ice// H.S.

Prologue

Vee's touch was cold as ice. Her features were worn and tired. She'd been through so much to last her a lifetime, yet things just kept coming her way. She worked long hours at the coffee
house on Maine. Vee depended on her tips and her weekly salary to keep her bills paid for her lonely, one bedroom, cramped up apartment. She didn't even have enough to even think of raising money for a vehicle of any sort. Vee was a freshman in Uni that she could barely afford with no family to help her ever since the tragic death of her mother and father. She cried herself to sleep every night since then until she became numb. Vee felt nothing. Boy, did she want to feel something after the long years of pain. But she felt nothing.

She had long, chocolate brown hair that cascaded down her porcelain frame. Her skin was a ghostly white, but it suited her tainted self. She had icy eyes that resembled the most beautiful of blue. Like an ocean on a beautiful starry night. Some who came across her said if you looked close enough, you could see the stars in her pretty blue eyes. Vee had beautiful plump lips with a  light pink shade. Although they were always slightly chapped due to the frosty air that lingered around her, they were still as smooth as can be. Vee always wore the same worn jacket with whatever outfit she wore. It reminded her of what her father once was. She always wore dark, heavy bags under her eyes, not being able to support enough sleep for them to lessen. Her facial structure was sunken in at the slightest, her cheekbones very prominent due to her lack of eating on night that she couldn't even afford one cup of instant Ramen. She was a beautiful mess at her fullest.

Vee never believed she'd meet anyone to make her feel again. Her mind was set on her being forever lonely due to her failures to support herself in the correct ways when she had no one else. No one ever tried helping her, so she seeked for independence and strength, not relying on someone and becoming a charity case. Being dependent meant being weak in her eyes, and she hated feeling weak. So how is it that one thing could walk into her life and change it all for the better and for the worse?

Harry was a ticking time bomb. His fiery eyes held misery and hate. His features were hard and alert. His life had been a mess. He wrote for a living. He wrote everything that happened around him. Sometimes he'd even draw to remember the things that happen around him vividly. Harry hadn't been living in this town long. He'd just moved here to get away from his problems at home, but they always seemed to find a way back to him. That's what he did, he ran. He ran away from his problems like it was his job, and to him it was. He made money by working at the music shop at the very corner of Maine. It didn't pay a lot, but it paid just enough. Harry owned a flat a few blocks away from Maine. It wasn't the largest, but from the checks his mum had sent him, it wasn't the smallest either. His mom understood why he was running away, and she accepted it, but the others at home were left to wonder what had gotten to him so badly, that'd he'd just up and leave one day. Things had happened with him. Loads of things. They made him into what he was now. Something the polar opposite of what this boy used to be.

Harry had long, curly hair for a guy. His eyes were a bright emerald green, yet they didn't seem to amount to the brightness everyone knew they held. They held mystery and uncertainty with every move he made. His skin wasn't the palest, but it was pretty pale. More of a cream color, but lighter. His perfectly sculpted lips were in the shape of a heart, them being a dark shade of pink. Some might mistake them as feminine, but he wore them well. When he smiled, his rosy cheeks supported beautiful deep dimples that melted the ones that swooned over him, and the ones that he'd messed with. His jawline looked as if it had been sculpted by the gods themselves, it being shaped perfectly and aligned with his features.  You could say he was a player, but that'd be an understatement. He was more than most could handle, yet what everyone wanted. He was a walking sin with no warning.

He wasn't the nicest of people. In fact, he usually wasn't nice at all. He was snarky and rude because he believed that people were out to get him and people were horrible. He didn't like others. He was a secluded mess just waiting to explode. Sure, the people he hooked up with weren't bad in many more ways than one, but he never stayed long enough to get to know them. They were nothing but something that provided him pleasure. He spent most of his nights drowning himself in alcohol and regret along with the smoke of his always lit cigarettes. He was his own toxin and he couldn't seem to find a cure for himself. Well, that was until he met a certain stubborn someone that changed his life for both the better and the worse.

Two worlds collide, fire and ice. They drive each other mad. But sometimes mad is good, right?