Brisk air flooded my skin as I walk onto the frozen ground. He stood just ahead of me as I saw him stare thorough me. His eyes as icey as the wind. I couldn't blame him for I wore the same eyes, yet worse. I hurt him. If words were applicable I would have said them. Instead I waited for his angry words and frustration, but none were in sight. Minutes seemed to whisk away, until the weight was overfilling. I walked forward and he stepped closer, till inches were left. I felt words leave my mouth in a way that was so venomous, " If only you weren't so fake I might actually be able to see you had a soul!" I spat, finding words ever so wrong. " You're no angel either sweetheart!" He spoke so softly, it was creepy. At this I turned and walked away from him. Confused, was a word I could use, for his soft yet icey tone had put me at ease, knowing he was stifled by my words.