Numb. Everything is numb. Hands and feet so cold they could barely move. The nights were getting colder, that's for damn sure. Leaves she pretends are as soft as cotton shift beneath her in the breeze. It isn't hard to pretend anymore. Had she ever felt something so soft? No, certainly not. The idea itself made her laugh. The twigs and dirt were her velvet's and satin's.

Another sharp gust of wind brings a slight smile to her cheeks. To her, it is just the world's way of telling her to wake. Pushing herself up, she shoves her hands in her pockets, rubbing her fingers on the soft paper that was buried there.

A dark sky rumbles overhead, and she hums along, the smell of an oncoming rain filling her lungs. Each step she takes proceeds to slowly wake her toes up, spreading that annoying tingly feeling that made her nose wrinkle.

Light touches her eyes and she stops, gazing at the warm sight of coffee grounds. The paper in her pocket now feels heavy, so she nods and pushes the door open. The scent overwhelms her, nearly knocking her over. She gets strange looks, but she just smiles as she approaches the counter.

"Small and black please," she says, setting the green paper from her fingers in front of the barista. A half smirk, some punches in the register and the money is dropped in the drawer.

An old man with a scowl sits in the corner, reading. She wondered, was it the book that deformed his face? Or perhaps something else? Maybe he's annoyed at being at a coffee shop this early, and would much rather be at home.

"Your coffee miss,"

She spins around and quickly grabs the drink. Her excitement overtakes her rationality and the hot black liquid slides down her throat. Her face instantly pinches, causing the old man to snicker.

It takes her a moment but when she realizes, her stomach warms. Her pinched face now matches the old man's scowl.

It's strange, but it pleased her so much to have the connection that she kept the expression as she left, back into the comforts of her cold world.