Snowflake was her name. It suited her well. She shared the same fragility, that exclusive delicacy of her namesakes, and the same chill. My glacial queen.
When I first saw her stood as though a porcelain figurine by the ice covered pond, I knew she had to be mine. Her ethereal nature transcended her surroundings. She was more a part of the season than the snow that lay about her. I stood intoxicated in her presence, as the smell of frosted pine swept over me. She looked my way with sapphire eyes and smiled, as a sheen of ice crept across my heart.
I pursued her from that moment on, wooed her, and eventually murdered her. Not in actuality, but spiritually. She was not meant to be caged. The warmth of a fire was not for such as she though she tried to change, for me. At least, that is what I chose to believe.
A spirit of nature, and in need of the cold comfort of winter it was I that found her. She stared up at me from below the glasslike, ice surface of the pond where we first met. She was smiling in a way I had only ever seen once before; the day I first met her. I knelt down on the ice and wept for my winter angel. My tears were of genuine remorse. I was a shattered man. Perhaps, that was what brought her back. Enough at least to break the creaking ice and pull me under to her pale side. I did not resist her. How could I? She was all I ever wanted.
Now, like two icicles, merged and frozen together over time, we shall be together in an arctic embrace. Our ice age shall last for eternity.
If you are to chance upon our place of rest, our submerged peace, and should hear a creaking as of ice over glass, take heed. Do not look down into those crystal waters and those gleaming sapphire eyes. Or you, like I, may become lost in winter forever.