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It all happened fast. I was walking too quickly, Harry trying to keep up at my heels. I could see my breath and I really just wanted to make it into the cafe, where it would be warm and the wind wouldn’t cut through me. We were planning to have something hot to drink, maybe a bagel, and go over the case.
I looked forward to seeing Harry across from me, making ridiculous suggestions about what to ask witnesses, saying bizarre things to the waitress, just generally being Harry. I loved him being Harry. I loved *Harry.* That thought crossed my mind for the hundredth time as I marched on. A bitter sweet pang hit my stomach. Yes, you love him, but things will stay exactly as they are until your infatuation is over. You'll get over him, just as you have with many before him. No sense in over-complicating your life or your work. How many times will you fall for your partner, you fool?
But then again, who else is there to fall for when all you do is work?
I pressed on, glancing back at my partner, who grinned at me. The path we walked was not an official one, it was beyond a fence and a much more direct route to the cafe, as the crow flies. It was a short cut that we took that day. At my insistence.
Because I was cold.
My boot hit a patch of ice on the pavement and I was thrown off balance. I barely remember tumbling down the snowy embankment while I tried to catch myself. I opened my eyes and I was sitting on ice, having slid out onto the lake.
I was thankful to have not lost my glasses. I can hear Harry yelling from the top of the man-made mountain, but I can’t make out the words. “I’m alright!” I called back and still reeling from the fall, I stood.
I would later find out what Harry called down to me was a warning: DON'T STAND UP
I took a single step and my foot plunged straight through the ice. I immediately pulled back, but it was too late. There was a great crash as the lake swallowed me.
It turns out I had never truly been cold in my entire life.
The frigid water stunned me. Involuntarily I breathed in as I slipped under the water’s surface, getting a lung full of frozen lake. I tried to keep calm and I kicked until I broke the surface again, bobbing up through the same hole I just made. I coughed and sputtered, ejecting the water from my lungs. I couldn’t see anything at all, my glasses were too wet and started to freeze when they hit the air. I was too cold to even yell, and I realized I was hyperventilating. I had the thought everyone has when they're in a situation like this: I'm going to die here.
Then a worse thought struck me, what if I die and...then he never knows? I had never, ever planned to tell him, but the thought of the chance being ripped away from me was almost worse than the cold.
I gathered myself. I needed to calm down and kick until I was up on the ice again. Harry can’t save me, he’ll just fall through too. My strength had been sapped from the cold, but I mustered all I had left and managed to propel myself out of the water. Miraculously I didn’t make the hole bigger.
Then the cramping started. All over my body my muscles were spasming and locking. I crawled toward Harry’s shouting and when I was close enough he grabbed me by my jacket and we quickly discovered I couldn’t stand on my own. My nerves were screaming and my body shook and my muscles continued to cramp. Harry lifted me under my arms and carried me back up the embankment. I watched my feet drag in the snow.
Faintly I heard encouragements from Harry, telling me that he's got me, that I'll be alright.
The next part is a blur. Harry sat me in the motor carriage and spoke to Gottlieb. He asked how long I had been under and I couldn't answer, my teeth were chattering. Harry answered for me, less than two minutes. Gottlieb asked if I was conscious, if I was complaining of being hot, and then various other things that Harry had to answer. Then Harry drove me home. According to Gottlieb, the hospital would be a crowded waste of time. I just needed to be warm.
Harry carried me from the motor carriage to the inside of my apartment. My clothing was heavy and frozen to me. It sucked away any heat my body tried to generate. The cold had sunk into my bones and it's all I could focus on. The cramping had worsened. I was gasping and shaking as my clothes dripped water on the floor where I stood.
It was about then, standing just inside the front door, that I started to feel extremely disoriented. My thoughts were muddled and everything around me was dream-like, almost as if I was drunk.
Harry cleaned off my glasses for me and when he put them back on me, I could finally see him. He looked terrified.
"You'll be okay, Kim." He tried to sound confident for my sake "We have to get these clothes off you."
Harry then Jamrock-shuffled his way through my bathroom and bedroom, having to quickly familiarize himself with my linens and wardrobe. He returned with a clean towel and dry clothes for me.
I felt like an invalid as Harry peeled each garment off of me, my fingers were numb and had lost all dexterity. My breath hissed in and out of my clenched and chattering teeth. My arms were rigidly crossed on my chest. Harry made a small pile of my water-logged clothes by the door. I was stark naked only a moment before he wrapped a towel around my quaking body. That was the first time I felt any kind of relief from the chill since it all started. I noticed how warm the air of my apartment felt compared to the outside.
He held me steady while I stepped into dry underwear. I could tell how worried he was, how desperate he was to properly care for me. He gently tugged a clean shirt over my head and helped me into a pair of comfortable sweatpants.
It *was* injurious to my pride, being nude before Harry, needing his help with such a simple and personal task, but I was too delirious from hypothermia to really dwell on it. Harry was talking to me the whole time and his voice seemed muffled and distant. I didn't absorb most of what was said.
I only caught the last thing: "We've got to take it slow and warm you up gradually. Gottlieb said it would be really dangerous if we do it too quickly."
This news filled my clouded mind with despair. How gradually? I'm frozen! I know a hot bath was out of the question but I thought we would come back and Harry would start a fire in my fireplace and I'd sit as close as I could stand it...this is terrible...
I'm not sure what expression I had but it must have been grave.
"...Kim? Are you...what's wrong?" My partner's giant hands held my shoulders and he looked into my eyes.
Up until this point, according to Harry, I had been completely silent.
"I...I really don't like being cold." My voice trembled from how badly I was shaking. Hearing myself say the words aloud somehow amplified my grief. I couldn't look into Harry's sympathetic gaze anymore, I turned away with his hands still on my shoulders. I shuddered and began to weep into my numb hands. I was broken.
I felt like a child, standing in my living room crying because I fell in a frozen lake and an adult had to dress me because I couldn't do it myself.
Others might have laughed at my predictament, and rightfully so, but not Harry. His eyes widened with concern...and he *hugged* me. I couldn't remember the last time someone had *hugged* me. Especially not someone I trust and adore as much as Harry. My body still shivered uncontrollably. He felt like a furnace and I probably felt like a corpse.
"I'm sorry you're cold, Kim. You'll be warm soon, I promise." He consoled me as I continued to cry helplessly. His reassurance was very comforting. I had the fleeting thought that fatherhood would come very naturally to Harry.
I choked out something unintelligible. It might have been an apology, or more complaints of being cold. I can't remember. He gently acknowledged whatever it was, and I melted further into his embrace. I gripped his shirt with what little strength remained in my sore fingers.
Harry would later tell me that I said a bunch of things while in this state of hysterics. Some of it was asking "what would happen to me now" and other nonsensical questions all rooted in raw fear. He said it scared the shit out of him, Kim Kitsuragi crying and acting irrationally.
However, I do remember him answering my inquiries with "You don't have to worry about that. I'll take care of that." and I remember the knots in my stomach relaxing.
I'm glad that Harry was the one to see me in such a ridiculous state. If it had been anyone else in the world, I would have never lived it down.
Next I was guided to the couch, much calmer now, and he pulled down a thick blanket I always have hanging on the back of it. He draped it over me with care, pulling it all the way up to my shoulders and making sure it also covered my feet. I pleaded with my eyes for him to join me. I had never felt...*needy* before in my life, but I was then. He obviously sensed it, because he assured me he would be right back.
He didn't even ask if I wanted tea, he just made it for me, adding sugar to help with my recovery. Probably another Gottlieb tip, but maybe not. The couch shifted as Harry added his weight to it. I could barely coordinate my hands enough to lift the mug, between the shaking and numbness. Before disaster could strike, he cupped his big hands around the mug and helped me lift it to my lips. It didn't burn me, so Harry must have let it cool before giving it to me. Wait, when exactly did he start the tea? How long have I been home? I had lost all track of time. I drank it quickly, finishing half of it.
"Thank you." I was afraid of trying to set the mug down. "T-Take it please."
He eased it out of my grasp and set it on the coffee table.
A powerful wave of fatigue hit me. My head was spinning. The shivering had lessened but the deep chill within me remained. I wanted Harry to hug me again.
"How you feelin'?" He asked, looking at my bundled form beside him.
"Better...I think. I don't know." I mumbled, feeling the faintest ghost of a smile on my face, "I want to go to bed."
"I think you should stay where you are. You're not supposed to move around a lot." Harry spoke with careful authority, acutely aware of my delirium but not accustomed to giving me orders.
I had no energy to argue. The tiredness was wringing all rationale from my mind. I still craved warmth. *His* warmth. I scooted over until our hips were touching. He didn't hesitate to bring his arm around me and scoop me closer.
I mumbled a string of incoherent things and climbed shamelessly into Harry's lap. My legs dangled over his as I curled myself against his broad chest. His arms seemed so big as they welcomed me and held me securely. The blanket was pulled over us both. One of my frozen hands rested on his belly. He didn't seem perturbed in the least by my leeching warmth from him.
The blanket insulated us and created a cavity of heat all around me. Improvement to my plight at last!
He lifted one of my limp legs and gingerly encased my icy foot with his big hands. He shifted his hands around it, trying to warm it evenly. Then he did the same for my other foot. It was that moment I knew for certain that he loved me.
The feeling finally returned to my poor feet after a few minutes of Harry's kneading.
"I'm so tired." I could barely speak and couldn't stop my eyes from closing.
"That's alright. Go to sleep." His chest rumbled against me. His tone was paternal and soothing.
I slept.
__________________________________________________________________________________
When I awoke, six hours had passed and it was early evening. The chill was long gone, but had been replaced with soreness. My muscles ached from cramping. The memories of that morning were like a confusing dream. Harry was no longer with me, I was lying on my side with the blanket tucked around me. My glasses had been removed and folded neatly on the coffee table. I grabbed them and pushed them onto my face.
I sat up on the couch with one thing on my mind. Standing slowly, I could hear him in the kitchen. My Harry.
My bare feet padded the floor and I saw him standing at my stove, cooking something that sizzled in a pan. A wide grin appeared on his bearded face, his eyes lighting up at the sight of me.
"Well look who's up! Are you feeling better?"
I was somewhat unsteady as my muscles complained with each step. Despite this, I walked straight up to him and held his face in my hands. I searched his eyes, which reflected surprise and adoration, and then looked at his lips. I kissed him. The spatula he held clattered onto the counter top and his hands went to my waist. His thumbs stroked my sides as his lips synced with mine.
I pulled away and saw his stunned expression.
"K-Kim..I-"
"I could have died in that goddamned lake and you would have never known that I loved you." My voice shook "I love you, Harrier."
He pulled me quickly into another kiss, air puffing through his nostrils emotionally.
"I love you too, Kim." Harry looked at me like I was the most precious thing in the world. It embarrassed me and I felt heat rise to my ears. No one has ever looked at me like he does.
My knees buckled, the muscle weakness catching up to me, or maybe it was because of how he looked at me. Harry saved me from hitting the floor and helped me back to the couch. It was then I noticed he had lit the fireplace and hung my clothes to dry while I slept. How could he be so *good*? How could a person care for me so thoroughly?
When dinner was cooked, we sat quietly together in front of the fire and ate. His hand rested on the small of my back.
I was pretty confident I would never be cold again.