Cold Inside

When Evan woke up, he found himself unyieldingly sealed to Ivressa by a block of ice enveloping them both, extending from head to toe and locking his mouth on hers in what seemed to be an eternal numb embrace.

Shit, he thought, I knew I should have got the heating guys over here before Christmas. The heat always crapped out right at the time when all humans were also slacking off. And now it had cost him his girlfriend and probably some of his reputation as a nice guy. Imagine the way they’ll talk about the jerk who freezes his dates as soon as they trust him enough to come to his place.

He’d known something was off as soon as he’d touched her hand at the coffee bar out of work. She was getting an iced tea, and he’d remarked that her hands were already ice-cold. She’d responded by shoving the tall plastic cup of deep frozen tea against his throat, shocking his most sensitive and unsuspecting places with cold. That was when he knew, that she knew, and she was receptive. He even let her screw around with the controls on his dash, which was almost unheard of in his car generally. But even then, he’d had a feeling Ivressa was more than just a general hookup. What about her was more, he trusted he’d figure out after diluting her mind with a little wine and the night. But it seemed like she’d diluted his conscience with her chocolate moves and Titanic-blue eyes, and it was clearly her icy hands laying him down and not the other way around. And now look where he’d landed himself by letting his guard down.

Frozen to a lifeless naked girl.

His jeans, a pile in the corner, started vibrating. His phone – probably a message from his boss, or possibly his girlfriend in Iowa. Shit – had she showed up in town early to “surprise” him this year? He squirmed, trying to push the heavy block of ice and flesh off of him so he could get to his phone. After a few moments of twisting and turning and cussing, he noticed the ice around his own body was melting, pooling as a chilly pond between the cushions of his couch. His connection to Ivressa’s body was cracking, and soon he was able to heave her off of him – still ensconced in her own lonely block of ice. Not looking back to see the results of the crashing sound, he ran to his pants.

The vibrations died. He’d missed the call. He keyed in his passcode to check – it was his mom, surely calling to make sure he hadn’t died or gambled away her retirement fund in the past week since he’d last spoken to her. Totally not an emergency worthy of breaking his girlfriend for.

Oh, well. Kneeling by his pants, he glanced over at the block of ice like a Peruvian mummy beside his soggy couch. Her eyes seemed to stare right back at him, frozen in a glaring sort of smile. He wondered if this was going to turn out like one of those creepy doll movies where the doll comes to life and strangles its master or some shit. In fact, her eyelids slowly blinked down and opened again, on perfect synchrony like a doll, and her smile inched a tiny bit wider.

Still, the ice coffin around her body was pretty solid. He was pretty sure he could make it to his car and beat it to mom’s before she escaped – if she ever did. After all, the heating was still decidedly broken. First things first though – before he went out to the car, he needed some clothes. He searched around the corner where his pants were, groping around for his underwear.

Suddenly he noticed something was very wrong. And at the same moment he discovered what was off about Ivressa. He had not been able to sense her frosty heart until it was too late – a vital part of him was now frozen inside her body, locked in ice, never again to belong to its rightful owner. Curse me, he thought to himself, for breaking the ice without paying attention to boundaries.

 

 

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