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The car was warm, even warmer now that the two hot chocolates weren’t keeping the heat in the cup. Rowen had her unfocused eyes on August’s hands while hers were resting limply on the steering wheel. He, despite having froze at the gas station door, was lively and unable to quit fidgeting.

“The one with the blond hair, did you see him?” he asked; his hands stopped moving and Rowen looked up at him. Suddenly, she wasn’t able to see the normal August�"she saw the pale, bloody, and broken one that was nearly frozen on the side of the road with his tears as icicles on his face. Unable to look at him any longer, she dropped her gaze and pushed away the memory.

“Yeah, I did. Why?” Rowen looked through the windshield, watching the snow pile up gently on the parking lot.

“He tried to shoot me. It was his last bullet and he missed. Once he realized that, he kicked me down and sliced up my arm,” August sighed, his fingers tracing lines on his forearm. Rowen could see it through the corner of her eye and she turned back to face him, hoping that she would only see the present version of him. She took a sip from her cup and glanced at the clock. It was two twenty five; they needed to be in the building in five minutes.

“We need to get inside, August,” Rowen sighed as she took the keys out of the ignition. She leaned back in the seat and unbuckled herself.

“Yeah, okay. Are you going in, too, or just sitting in the waiting room?” He clicked the seatbelt and it flung across his chest, hitting the wall violently. Shrugging it off, he twisted to face her and slid his beanie on again, over his now messy hair.

“I don’t know. I might go in too…” Rowen unlocked the doors and stepped out into the snow, listening to it crunch beneath her shoes. She fixed her shirt underneath her jacket and leaned against the side of the car to wait as August shuffled around the car to her. He tied his scarf around his neck and slipped his hands into the pocket. Rowen flipped her hood up and shuffled through the snow with August right at her side. The sound of snow crushing beneath their feet entrapped her soul in a wave of memories. She remembered how she grew up in Wisconsin, just outside Milwaukee, and how she would spend all her winter days playing out in the snow.

“Did it snow in Finland?” Rowen asked as they shuffled onto the icy sidewalk between the two buildings. She laughed at how stupid she sounded and the echo bounded around them. August began laughing along with her and Rowen glanced at him, his eyes glinting with happiness.

“Yeah, it did. January was the prime month for snow. I loved spending all day out in the snow, even though it was freezing,” he turned onto the sidewalk that led to the office and Rowen followed him, carefully shuffling on the ice. It crunched beneath her shoes and her heart flickered, memories inching her way into her mind. She could still feel the freezing water that tried to capture her as a child. The ice on the lake had broken and she tumbled in, unable to keep her footing as the break had travelled over to her.

August broke her train of thoughts as he opened the door and the warm air slammed into her, giving her even more chills. She stepped into the large office and was greeted by several curious eyes and a heavy silence. August took her arm in his and she could feel his body shaking slightly underneath his jacket. Rowen tried to ignore it and focus on walking awkwardly through the room to the counter. Her shoes scuffed against the tile flooring and it echoed within the room. It was setting her nerves on edge before they stepped up to the counter.

“Fill this out,” the large woman said from her chair before August had the chance to say anything. Without looking away from her computer screen, she handed August a clipboard, then a pen. She returned to using both hands for typing and the nurse behind her glanced up at him, her eyes pointedly speaking for her.

Rowen turned around, facing the large green eyes of a man sitting in the first row of chairs. He was quite elderly and had a small wisp of snow white hair on the top of his head. His lips parted and he spoke in a rough voice, “Good boyfriend you got yourself there, missy.”

August spun around, a look of confusion on his face as he looked down at the man. Rowen glanced over at him and they both questioned each other as to who should say something.

“Um, yes, he is.” Rowen decided to go with it and watched the way the old man’s face light up. She tried to hide her smile as she looked over at August, who was also grinning widely.

“There’s something between you two. Don’t let each other go,” he leaned back into his chair, crossed his arms, and closed his eyes. Rowen looked back at August, who had a faint pink coloring his cheeks, and she led him over to the row of free seats in the corner of the room. She plopped down in the leather chair and gazed up at August. He glanced behind him, at the old man, and grinned as he sat down beside her.

“What was that all about?” he asked, twisting to face her. He leaned his knees against the wood arms and rested his chin on them. “You saying we were together.”

Rowen stared at him, wondering how to phrase it. She sucked in a deep breath and raised her eyebrows at him. “Did you see his face? I couldn’t say that you weren’t. He was too hopeful.”

August laughed and picked his head up off his knees. He adjusted the beanie that was still hiding his matted down hair and leaned his head against the wall, his eyes still locked on her. Instead of replying, like he was about to, he picked up the clipboard from the chair beside him and began filling it out, the pen scratching creating noise in the dead quiet. Rowen glanced around, meeting the wide and curious eyes of a red-haired child. The child, a young girl with a flawless pale face, grinned at her, displaying dimples on her cheeks. Rowen smirked back to her and dropped her eyes as she noticed the girl’s obvious father looked over at her.

“Can I put you as the number thing?” August asked, gazing up at her with deep brown eyes, and wiggled the pen between his fingers.

“Yeah, home or my cell phone?” Rowen was about to slide her phone out of her pocket to check any messages, but remembered that it was dead and squished between the cushions of the couch.

“Granted you never answer your cell, home please,” he grinned widely and she caught the playful tone he added. Rowen rolled her eyes, but nodded and tried to suppress the smile that tugged on her lips.

“Thank you…” he trailed off, dragging out the end of ‘you’ as he scribbled down the number. He sat up straighter as he pushed himself off the edge of the chair. August shuffled over to the counter and Rowen stretched out in her chair, folding her arms on her stomach. She leaned her head against the back and watched commercials flicker across the TV screen across the room, wondering what was actually on.

August dropped down back next to her with a look of disgust on his face when she glanced over at him. Her eyebrows raised and he narrowed his eyes, subtly nodding his head over to the counter. Rowen followed, eyes landing on those of the woman’s behind the desk. Instantly, Rowen tore her eyes away and back to August. He snorted and tried to shush his quiet laughter, with no success.

Just then, the door off to their left opened and an Indian nurse poked his head out, craning around until he found August. “Aukusti Montgomery?”

August picked his head up, shock on his face as he recognized that the nurse pronounced his Finnish name correctly, and he stood up. He looked down at Rowen expectantly and she pushed herself up. She followed him through the door and into a wide, neutral colored hallway. The nurse began talking, apparently asking questions, and August abruptly answered each. Rowen caught no questions as she followed along quietly, enveloped in her thoughts.

“Sit on the stool and she can sit in the chairs. The doctor will be in with you in a moment,” the nurse gestured to the room they stopped at and August followed Rowen in as she plopped down in the only chair in the room. He jumped onto the bench, nothing like a stool, and leaned against the wall, pulling his scarf off his neck. The nurse closed the door quietly and loudly walked away.

“You should hold this for me,” August winked as he tossed the scarf on her lap gently. He shed the beanie he had, but stuffed it inside the pocket of his jacket. Rowen caught the scarf and tied it around her neck, but pulled it off as she became too hot.

True to the nurse’s words, a tall Irish man, introducing himself as Dr. Roberts, entered after several moments. He leapt onto the spinning chair with great gusto and energy.

 

Rowen pulled out of the parking lot, half listening to August’s quiet mumbling. He was out of it, a little, for they gave him a local anesthetic and he was just coming around again. She eased on her breaks as she came up to the stop light and turned the radio down the rest of the way, unwillingly silencing Nirvana. Rowen glanced out of the corner of her eye and found August closely examining the now closed gash on his left forearm. 

“Will you marry me, Rowen?” August asked, faking a poor British accent. His chair dipped down as he was adjusting it. Rowen ignored him and pulled into the street, carefully gliding down the small hill that was covered in snow. She eased the car to a stop and glanced out the windshield, spotted with snow. The entire neighborhood was unmoving and serene, a beautiful sight to behold. Rowen sighed as the bright sun pierced the dark clouds, creating a breathtaking atmosphere.

August broke the calmness with a fit of laughter as his seat was at a ninety degree angle again. He reached over to the steering wheel and took her hand, repeating his question with a light and merry tone. Rowen glanced over at him and, unable to stop it, a grin stretched out on her face. She left her hand in his and turned onto her street; she pulled up onto her clear driveway, cutting the engine as she rolled to a stop.

Rowen turned to face him and tried to pull her hand out of both of his. His eyes were locked on hers and he innocently blinked. August shook his head with a light cackle of laughter and slunk out of the car after unbuckling himself. Confused, Rowen clicked her seatbelt and followed him up the porch.

She jammed her key into the lock and shouldered the door open. Rowen tumbled over the threshold, tripping over it, and held it open for August, who shuffled in with wide eyes. He tore off his scarf and hung it around Rowen’s neck as he passed her on his way into the living room.

“I think you should get to bed, August,” Rowen called out to him as she gently clicked the door closed. She tossed the scarf onto the kitchen table, along with the keys, and staggered into the living room, weary of the deadly quiet. August was grinning widely and sitting cross legged on the coffee table as she walked in. He was like a child, Rowen thought.

He shook his head violently, but pushed himself onto the floor. August gazed up at her and she crossed her arms with a stern look on her face. Rowen shuffled over and grasped his wrists, yanking him upwards. He stuck his tongue out at her before racing up the stairs, tripping on nearly every other step. Rowen sighed, slipping her jacket off and tossing it onto the couch. She took out her hair and let the braid fall down her back. She ran her fingers through it as she jumped up the stairs.

The door to her room was open and light flooded the hallway. August’s shadow danced along the wall and Rowen ignored it, seeing as it was him dancing wildly. She rolled her eyes and slipped into the room, unsurprised at the sight of him wearing nothing but his underwear and his clothing strewn on the broken chandelier in the corner of the room.

“Dance with me!” he gleefully called to her, offering his hand out to her. Rowen cast a glance over to the window, the sky outside darkening slowly. Shrugging, she took his hand and he spun her closer to him. August twirled them around, moving into the clear area of the floor, and swayed side to side. Rowen mirrored his movements without really trying to and she pulled away so he could spin underneath her arc, which he did without hesitation. He broke out in a fit of laughter that was made of genuine happiness. Rowen gazed over at his dark eyes, watching them spark in ways she didn’t know that they were capable of, and she couldn’t help but laughing with him.

August dropped her hand and quit moving, seriousness sliding onto his face. He gazed down at the ground, biting his lip. Rowen took a step back and wondered what was going on. He just froze, like someone had slapped him, or something...

He opened his mouth to say something, but caught his breath sharply. Running his hand in his hair, August shuffled over to the bed and threw himself across it with a heavy sigh.

“You okay?” Rowen asked, gently sitting next to him. She stroked his arm with delicate fingers and he flinched, but made no effort to move his arm. He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. Rowen watched his chest rise and fall calmly, feeling the air around them relax. August gazed over at her, his eyes dim.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“Do what, exactly?”

“Save me,” his voice cracked and his eyes flew to a close. He exhaled shakily, his eyes sliding open and over at her with pain hiding in them. Rowen shook her head, rolling her eyes at the same time. She smiled tiredly and leaned in towards him. Kissing him on the forehead, she slid off the bed and shuffled out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

 

Author's Note

Review, please? :D