Ice
He took one last breath, causing him a deathly stabbing pain in his lungs, and to this air he dedicated the last conscious effort he felt he was capable of. He clung to the nearest rock so he would not slide down the slope as he lost consciousness while asking himself what was the point, if his unavoidable destiny would be marked on the moment he closed his eyes anyway. The air was so cold that he felt his skin chapping, painlessly; and it was so snowy that he could barely glimpse the shadow of his own hands, clasping the outcrop with difficulty.
The exhaustion prevented an outburst of rage and desperation that would have burnt out the little energy he had left. He slightly felt some self-pity. Why? was the only thing he was able to focus on, only this word was floating on his mind intermittently; it was the only one to which he thought he could find some sense, although not an answer.
–
“I have been looking for you for so long.”
It was not the first time that he had heard that voice or that same sentence. It repeated itself on an infinite loop all around him, closer and closer, brought by time and space; and it stuck to his skin like it was the only thing that could rescue him.
“I have been looking for you for so long… Come back to me.”
The voice broke and still exuded a compelling sweetness, the anxiety to be heard. It incessantly caressed him with its worn fingers and, where it lost contact, the twinges of pain caused by the cold emerged with cruelty.
He reacted slowly, strangely; he remembered having abandoned himself to death without even a last flutter of false victory and was surprised to wake up again. He did not want to wonder if he was alive. If he was not, too many questions would ensue for his tired body and exhausted mind to bear. He actually wanted to rest; but the voice, endless and ethereal, pushed him out of his quasi feverish reverie.
“I have been looking for you for so long… Come back to me… Do not leave me now.”
He opened his eyes without knowing if the voice did actually belong to a body, hardly scared though, and before him he only saw blue. Two blue eyes like the sky on a spring morning, shiny and bright, captivating.