A woman in a heavy wool coat took the stool next to him. She didn't ask if it was taken. She just sat, smelling of woodsmoke and peppermint.
He stood up, the legs of the stool screeching against the floor like a winter gale. He didn't finish the drink. Instead, he buttoned his coat, the first spark of heat returning to his chest. Cold as Ice
Elias didn't turn. "Plenty of people walked away that day, Sarah." A woman in a heavy wool coat took the stool next to him
Should we continue the story with their , or He stood up, the legs of the stool
"They walked away and kept moving," she countered, sliding a hand-drawn map across the sticky mahogany bar. "You walked away and stopped. You’ve been standing in the same snowbank ever since."
"The ice is safer," Elias muttered, his breath hitching. "Nothing hurts when it's frozen."