Title: Black Blizzard
Pairing: Niklas Baier / Danial Belenus
Rating: PG
Summary: Hearts don’t break, they merely grow colder. Embittered and hurt, the passion grows bolder.
Notes: Rain is inspiring.

He was trembling.

The night brought along a cold chill. There was no wind to be had, but the frigid air settled into one’s bones without prompting. Guided, perhaps, by the gentle torrent of icy rain that fell upon the city. Not even the moon graced the sky, blocked out by the inky blackness of clouds that brought forth the rain.

A deep breath, so cold that it stung. The gentle nips of the frosty air caressed exposed flesh with a mocking gentleness.

It was pleasant. Not near content, the uneasy churn of apprehension ensured that, but it was nice enough.

“It’s beautiful,” he uttered, crisp and cautious. The words defined by the visible puff of warm breath, swirling and dissipating into the night. Another shudder abused his spine. “Damn…”

Smiling sardonically, Niklas reached up to muss his own hair. His fingers were oddly numb now.

“Would you listen to me? Sunny, you hear me now? Next thing you know I’ll be sputtering off poetry and…”

Deftly he shoved his right hand - his only hand, he had to remind himself - into his pants pocket. There was a painful flood of warmth. It bit worse than the cold. He’d been happy in the dark. It was safe there, it was cold…

Damn the sun.

Damn the man who bore the sun’s warmth.

“ I really hate you.”

It was the closet Niklas had ever come to admitting that the burn in his heart wasn’t of anger. But it wasn’t love, because it burned too hotly. Too strongly. There was no light in the dark.

“Ich hasse dich…Ich hasse…”

There was a frustrated grunt. Words were so shallow. Construed and twisted, malformed and weak. He hated words with an indignant rage. They were supposed to be at his beck and call, the words. However, they seemed to have mastered him.

It was pathetic.

“I just…thought you should know.”

But the faded smile of memories and days long past are mute in reply. Perhaps, deaf. Niklas huddled a bit further into his jacket. A gaze that can never be wistful grazd the cloudy sky for a moment, then Niklas sighed.

He was a fool.

The grass crunched under his feet, frost bitten and broken.

Damn the sun for leaving.

Damn him for missing the warmth.

Most of all, damn the night, the rain for understanding.