It was a crisp, arctic day. The naked trees extended out, their branches resembling black thorns scratching the white sky above. The earth beneath coated in white, crunching paint, causing any trespassers to sink and fight their way through its thick contents. Few souls ventured out on this sort of day, unless having the luxury of a motor vehicle.

It was on this day that Winter met Death.

He was sitting on a bench, alone and frozen in place, eyes opaque and void of any warmth. He was as empty as the open air and glued in an infinite, yet apocalyptic time spectrum. Watching as the souls passed, idly making note of when they were to meet their maker.

His job was never-ending, constant, and he never rested. Even just sitting there doing nothing, the sands of time still ceased to flow, and the hourglasses that contained the souls of the living stopped in their places. The concept of fulfilling one thing all across the world, every second, it was unfathomable, but when has death ever made sense?

"Excuse me?" The sudden voice of life wrenched him from his intricate machinations and he brought his gaze to his side.

It was but a soul of fifteen years, feminine in appearance, and wearing a smile, something mortals used sometimes in a form of greeting. What this one wanted, he did not know, nor did he wish to be bothered, but as he had been noticed, he could not help but respond.

"What is it that you want?"

"Um, do you mind if I sit down right there?" The soul was pointing to the unoccupied bench seat next to him.

"I do not care where you choose to rest yourself." He said, bringing his attention elsewhere, to a car that passed by.

A woman and her young son were in the car. The sands were waning swiftly for that particular one.

"Thanks." The soul plopped herself down next to him and pulled out her cellular device, skinny fingers clicking quickly on the buttons.

"You won't believe how far I've walked," she started, obviously assuming that he cared about her perilous journey.

If it had nothing to do with an end of life, he could not maintain interest.

"My friend's car broke down and we walked like, seven miles just to get back into the neighborhood. She made it home already, but my house is still a couple of blocks past the shopping center. I tried to call my parents, but I guess they're not home. Her parents weren't home either. I wonder if they're looking for us..."

The soul sucked in a large breath of air.

He had wondered when she would stop talking to sustain her life force. For a moment he'd thought he would have to take her right then and there, but then she started again.

"Gosh it's cold out here," and after giving him a long once-over, "Aren't you cold? It was snowing earlier, and I have my jacket and hat on, but I'm still cold, but you hardly have anything on. Whew, I feel like I'm going to freeze to death."

He brought his gaze to the girl. He could humor her at least. "You will not die today."

The girl chuckled. "I sure hope not. I haven't even eaten. I can't die on an empty stomach."

"Many die on empty stomachs."He said in a bland tone.

The girl nodded in agreement, blowing hot air into her cupped hands. "You're not cold?"

"No."

"What are you doing out here?"

"Nothing."

The girl snorted.

"What's your name?"

He brought his empty gaze to her once more, contemplating on whether he should tell her his name. No one had ever asked him or had even shown any interest in his existence before. Not that it mattered. He would probably scare her away eventually, but he always scared souls away. It was nothing new to him, but-

"My name is Figaro." It was a blatant lie.

"Like the cat from Disney?" She asked.

"Sure."

"Cool. My name is Winter Summers."

His eyes furrowed and he gave her a wondering look. Winter gave him a sheepish smile.

"Yeah, I know. Total oxymoron, right?"

He shrugged. "Misnomer. What time of year were you born in?"

"The spring."

A small smile found its way on his face, and he chuckled lightly.

"The two seasons are my parents' favorite. My mom loves winter and my father summer."

"That makes sense."

The conversation then ceased to persist any further, as he had no interest in continuing, and the soul probably couldn't find anything else to keep him talking.

"So, which one of your parent's named you?"

The question caught him off guard, but he answered anyway.

"Neither."

"So.."

"I did."

The soul gave him a funny look. "You named yourself?"

"Do you wish for an explanation?"

"Uh, yeah sure."

"My father wasn't present during the time of my creation, and my mother died while giving birth."

"So.."

"I named myself." He finished.

"Yeah, I got that." Winter snorted.

He blinked slowly and faced her fully. "I was alone for a long time, but after I grew up I happened upon that movie. The movie with the wooden boy."

"Pinnochio, you mean?"

"Yes, that movie. For some reason I enjoyed watching the cat, so I named myself after it."

"Ok, that part makes sense, I guess." The girl nodded and brought her attention back to her phone.

He brought his bored gaze back to the empty black streets that smothered the earth beneath it. He could sense Winter's uneasiness, for she shifted ever so slightly away from him.

"Do you find me odd, Winter?"

He had gotten her attention again. She brought her face to look at him as she stuffed her device into her pocket.

"Uh, sorta."

He smiled softly. "That is fine. Father always did say I would never have any friends."

Winter frowned. "Well, that's not a nice thing to tell your kid."

He shrugged, "I do not care much. They don't last anyway."

Winter's brow rose. "What doesn't last?"

He looked at her. "No friendship ever lasts between friends."

"Why do you believe that?"

"They all die, Winter."

Winter blinked slowly as she processed what he was saying. The two stared at each other for awhile.

"You're a really depressing person, you know that?"

"Am I souring your mood?"

"Sort of, but hey! I know what'll warm us up and make us happy all at the same time!"

She stood up suddenly, straightening her sweats out a bit.

"What would that be?" He asked.

Winter turned back to look at him with a wide smile. "Coffee and Cinnabons!"

"I did not know that sort of stuff cheered people up. I thought that both those food items caused addiction and weight-gain."

Winter gave him a funny look. "Have you ever had a Cinnabon, or Starbucks coffee?" She asked.

He shook his head. "No, I have not."

Winter grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. "Then come on."

~ At the Coffee Shop ~

He looked from his untouched Cinnabon to a euphoric Winter, who was licking her fork clean of the white icing after her first bite.

"You look happy.." he observed.

"That's because I am." She replied.

He looked back down at his Cinnabon. "Is this the hidden secret to man's quest for true happiness?" He asked.

Winter looked up from drinking her coffee. "What?"

"I've heard ones' say money can't buy happiness, but you just did."

She burst into a fit of laughter. "You're so weird. Eat your Cinnabon and drink your latte. They'll get cold if you don't."

He nodded and picked up his fork, taking a small piece off of his Cinnabon. He looked once more to Winter, who gave him an assuring smile. He finally put it in his mouth. That very moment his face lit up and his eyes widened.

In that moment, it was as if everything he wanted to know and everything he saw around him began to fall into place; his eyes seemed to take in the surrounding world around him differently.

He looked at Winter.

"This, this is good."

She laughed. "Yeah, I think I know that."

He began taking in larger pieces, finally devouring the entire thing, even licking the remains off the plate. After realizing it was gone, he lifted his plate and looked at Winter.

"May I have another?"

She gave him a smile. "Well, I think Cinnabon just found themselves a new customer. Why don't you drink your latte while I order you another one?"

He lifted the mug slowly to his lips before taking a small sip, watching as Winter headed for the register.

A loud screeching sound outside and a scream drew everyone's attention, except for him, who's eyes suddenly seemed to darken, yet he continued sipping on his heated beverage.

"Oh my gosh, I think someone's kid just got hit." His eyes rose at the sound of Winter's voice, but he said not a word, nor did he budge as she and a lot of others began to crowd by the window.

"Did someone get hit?"

"Yeah, that lady's kid."

"He ran in the street."

"Damn. Look at all that blood."

"Is he still alive?"

"Doesn't look like it. He's not moving."

"Should someone call the ambulance?"

"She's screaming hecka loud."

"I'ma post this up on Youtube, man."

"It's her fault. She shouldn't have let go of his hand."

"I've never seen someone die before.."

"Hello? There's been a horrible accident right off of 85th street and V. A kid just got hit by a car and he's bleeding real bad... On the corner, right by Starbucks...Please hurry. Alright, your welcome. Thankyou, bye."

Winter made her way back over to her seat and let out a sigh, placing her cell phone on the table.

"Horrible," she muttered.

"What. The boy?" He asked.

"Well, yeah, of course that, but then everyone just stood around and gaped, not even doing anything."

"You didn't do anything either but call the ambulance. That is not going to do anything."

Winter gave him an aghast look.

He continued. "Well, there was nothing that you or anyone else could do. The boy is dead."

"How do you know that? You didn't even get up to look."

"I didn't have to. A small child getting hit by an object that weighs over two tons going at a speed fifteen miles over the standard speed limit of forty-five?"

The look on Winter's face was now completely bewildered. He took another sip of his latte before continuing.

"It's the law of Newton. Pretty simple to surmise the result."

"What?"

"The heavier object in motion, when colliding with a smaller object."

"What?"

"The larger object will demolish the smaller object." He finished.

Winter's lips pursed tightly and her brows furrowed. "That boy was not an object."

The two then stared at each other for a long time. The air then seemed to change around them. He remembered this feeling. It was similar to when he was sitting outside. An icy, empty feeling. Knowing that everything and everyone around him would soon cease to exist, and he didn't care.

Winter's face was reddening and she almost seemed hot.

"What is the matter? You look upset Winter."

"That's because I am! You're so insensitive!"

"I said the Cinnabon was good and so is the latte. It warms my stomach. Thank you Winter for introducing me to these delicious delicacies. I really appreciate it."

Winter let out a sound of disgust, grabbed her phone from off the table and stormed out of the shop, leaving him sipping quietly on his latte.

"Cinnabon for a Winter?"

He rose his hand and got up from his seat, making his way over to the register. He took his plate and dipped his finger into the thick creme, sticking it into his mouth.

"Is that kid alright out there?" The man asked.

He didn't bother looking back as he replied, "He's dead."

The man said nothing else, but he could feel his disheartened aura. He walked quietly back to his seat and watched as the crowd slowly dispersed, losing interest as the ambulance finally arrived. He brought his empty gaze back to his Cinnabon and began to eat.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" The woman's awestricken voice drew everyone's attention once more, "He's breathing! Oh my god! He's breathing!"

The crowd quickly made its way back to the window, and he watched from afar, sitting idly eating and sipping on his latte.

"Yes, perhaps Cinnabon's and coffee really is the key to happiness."