She woke up on the marbled floor, dark brown eyes fluttering open. She was confused, having no idea where she was or whose silver chandelier, decorated in snow flakes and glitter it was that hung above her. Somehow, she wasn't panicking, she felt too tired, as if her brain couldn't bother to be slightly concerned for it's own condition.

"Hello," a small, soft voice called to her, followed by the sound of small, soft foot steps.

She sat up slowly, eyes landing onto the small, pale boy with black hair. Grey freckles surrounded his stuby nose and dull grey eyes.

"How are you alive?" The child asked, shifting to lean on his other foot. His curious eyes made the girl cold all over, but she wasn't scared of him.

"I- don't understand, why wouldn't I be alive?" She asked, dark eyebrows furrowing confusion.

The boy twisted his pale pink lips to the side as he thought for a bit, in pure silence. In a few seconds he walked towards her calmly. The lady didn't flinch as he placed an icy hand to her forehead, holding it there for a moment.

"It's weird," the boy told her, moving her dark brown hair out of her face as he moved his hand to her left cheek.

"You feel dead, but still alive," he examined, searching over her entire face.

The lady only tilted her head slightly, blinking slowly. "How do I feel dead?" She asked, not understanding the boy.

"You should know," he shrugged, readjusting his grey coat, "You're feeling it, you feel dead."

Realisation began to flood the lady's mind of what the boy was talking about, and she felt her shoulders drooping down as she pulled her knees closer to her body. "Oh, that."

The boy tilted his head, his eyes watching her move slowly. "Explain to me," he said, not a question, but not quite a demand. "You feel something like dead, but you're still breathing."

"Well, this is how I'd imagine dead people feel, or, most dead people," the lady murmered, placing her chin into her knees. She didn't feel like talking that much anymore.

"I imagined that, too," the boy smiled slightly, nodding a bit. His smile dropped though, grey eyes once again filling with concern and curiosity.

"What happened?" He asked, tilting his head again. "I don't think many people say they feel 'dead'," the boy frowned, sitting down next to her.

"I don't know," the lady sighed, looking at him from the corner of her eyes. "I just don't feel, alive," she tried to explain a bit.

"I don't think you have to be dead to not feel alive," the boy said, criss crossing his legs. "Criss, cross, applesauce," he silently whispered to himself as he changed his position.

It made the lady chuckle, it was such an adorable little quirk he had.

The boy smiled up at her once she did, his eyes shifting into a bright hazel. Him looking at her no longer madeher feel colder, it actually warmed her a bit now.

"Did that make you happy, at least a little?" The boy asked, a bit of hope in his new eyes.

The lady was confused on the change on his eyes, but didn't mention it. "Yeah, it did," she nodded, but by the time she finished her sentence his eyes were already back to grey, chilling her up again.

"That's good," he told her, looking at his feet as he nodded, "I'm glad you laughed."

"Thank you, that's-" the lady paused, thinking about it for a bit, "nice of you," she finished, finding the right words.

The two sat in silence, the small boy muttering a few words every few seconds to himself, and the lady just peering down at her cold feet.

The lady jumped a little as she felt cold arms wrap around her, and the cold face of the boy pressing into the side of her arm. "It's making me cold, the feelings," he whispered into her skin. Even his breath felt like an icy breeze in the winter.

The lady didn't ask any questions, she didn't say anything at all. She just wrapped her arms around the boy, ignoring the feeling of pure ice on her.