It was uncomfortably cold. Not bitterly cold, but uncomfortably—just cold enough to make you wish you brought gloves, when your breath is visible. It's the late fall equivalent of those drizzly days when you can't quite decide if it's worth taking out an umbrella.

There's something inescapably nostalgic about early winter sunsets. All of those days when the sun sets before 6:00 and it feels like late evening when you're coming home from school. It's a bit wistful.

And she's there, sitting on a hard, metal bench in a park that she never even knew existed. It was at the edge of town and the trees surrounding them were bare from the calling of winter.

And he's there, sitting next to her, on the same bench in the same park that he never knew existed. The little wildlife from the uncomfortable cold that heeded the call to bundle up and wait for spring.

Her smile was confident, mysterious—somewhere between angelic and doll-like. Her hair was flowing in the breeze of the chilly December night, her glasses reflecting against the moonlight against the black sky. They replay in his mind like an old film reel: frozen in time.

He was mesmerized, of course, but, to her, his eyes were empty. It was like staring through frosted glass: virtually opaque.

And the awkward silence seemed to never end. It was until Vance broke the silence, saying one quick word that made a world of difference.

"Lucille." he said. Vance then held his breath, waiting for a response of some sort other than silence. He hoped he wouldn't have to hold his breath for long.

"Yes, Vance?" she replied. It was a reluctant response from what Vance could tell, full of regret and distress.

"Do you remember...when you said no?" he asked. Lucille took a deep breath, sighing in the process. He could tell he was bringing back memories. But Vance knew memories are fickle. They're not there when you need them, and they're there when you wish they weren't.

"Yes, Vance, I do. Only two years ago, back at senior prom." Lucille started.

"I asked you to dance." Vance quickly cut in. Lucille then took another deep breath, then looked at Vance, who was staring towards the ground in front of him.

"And you said no. You said you couldn't. You said you couldn't...waltz..." Vance continued, barely managing the word 'waltz'. A tear went down his cheek, which showed the sad, chilling emotion that lurked deep within Vance's crushed heart for two long years.

"But, I couldn't waltz. And I still can't." Lucille said. Vance turned her way and their eyes met. As they each absorbed every detail of each other's downcast eyes and forced smile, they each realized they might as well be looking in the mirror.

"Lucille, no matter what I do, I can't change that. No matter who you are, or what you did...even if I tell myself I don't care, or if I try to give up...it doesn't matter if I say I love you or I hate you. I can't stop. That's how important you are to me. It's incredibly, stupefyingly, mind-bogglingly dumb, isn't it? But I can't help it. No one can." Vance said. The speech was told like it was prewritten, out of a story book, perfected over weeks, added to and struck through by an author trying to get the right sounding love confession. And Vance was able to do it at a whim, at will, with no prethoughts or rough drafts. He did it from the heart, as pure as a newborn.

"I don't know what I can do to make this right. I wish there was." Lucille said. The two just sat there, in a silence, staring into the darkness around them. Then, Vance spoke.

"You could learn how to waltz." he suggested. Their eyes met again as flurries began to fall on the December night. They quickly melted as they landed on them and Lucille ushered a reply.

"I could, couldn't I?" she asked. They both got up in unison as they stood facing each other. Vance took Lucille's left hand and held it up as his right hand went around her waist.

"Follow my lead." Vance whispered. Lucille did as she was told and the two waltzed in a circle, making footprints crunching in the snow below, in the park they had accidentally met up in. It was the dead of night, but the idea of applause wasn't the most radical idea.

The two both suddenly stopped, both in unison, both not questioning why it happened when it did. Lucille rested her head in Vance's chest. Vance held his breath in surprise as he rested his head on hers.

"Vance." Lucille said, cutting the silence in pieces.

"Lucy?" Vance asked quickly. He was on edge and accidentally shortened her name. But, he couldn't tell if she actually minded.

"Vance, there's something I need to tell you." Lucille said, not being conclusive in a torturous way.

"Yes?" Vance asked, full of suspense.

"You can't see what's in front of you," a quick pause, "when you're afraid of what's behind you." she said. She then escaped Vance's embrace and went in the direction behind him. She was crying slightly, cold against her cheeks in the early winter's night. And she began to walk away, the flurries falling, like his heart. The silhouette he fell in love with faded into the darkness. A memory died with each step she took, buried in the snow.

"And don't call me Lucy." she said finally, walking away, disappearing into the night behind Vance. Vance kept his head down until he looked up in confusion.

"Can't see what's in front of you?..." he muttered, looking forward, then realizing exactly what Lucille had meant.

"Hey, Vance." Sharon said quietly, blushing in Vance's prescence.