Hockey Withdrawls

[Matthew Williams]

As Matthew Williams stood by the edge of the outdoor pool, he glanced around with half-lidded indigo eyes. It was early in the morning, and it was foggy and cold. The cold didn't bother him as much as the early part did, but neither complaint could quite measure up to how badly he wished for the pool to just freeze over already.

He would be going into withdrawals by now if not for the fact that he had ESPN on the television in his dorm common room. It was better than nothing, he told himself over and over. But as the Canadian bit his chapped lips and rubbed his hands together for warmth, he began to realize that even if he prayed to every last god in existence, the chlorine in the outdoor pool would always prevent the water from freezing, hands down, no questions asked. The end.

With a sigh that turned to mist in the chilly autumn air, Matthew brought his hands to his mouth and he blew into his cupped palms. The warmth of his breath lasted only a few seconds before fading into the numbness of the cold again. "I could use some Timmy's about now, eh?" he murmured to no one in particular. Kumajirou, ever faithful, stood silently at his master's feet. He only moved once, just to tilt his head to the side and glance up at Matthew as he asked, "Who?"

[Alfred F. Jones]

Alfred was what you would call... A bloody idiot. It was the middle of Autumn, and the air was getting close to freezing, and the pool water was no better. But when Alfred put his mind to something, he did it, even if it meant risking freezing to death in the ice cold pool.

In his head the theme to Jaws played as he swam silently towards the form at the edge of the pool above the water, trying his hardest to hold his breath. Any bubbles would alert his brother to his plans, which would be the worst thing after working so hard. And by working so hard, he really meant freezing his butt off.

As he reached the edge, he reached out of the water, pale hand trembling as it surfaced. Icey fingers wrapped around Matt's ankle as he grabbed on tightly, a few bubbles surfacing as he grinned.

[Matthew Williams]

Kumajirou backed away with an expression on his face that seemed very much like a smirk literally two seconds before Matthew let out a yelp. The quiet Canadian nearly stumbled backwards as the death grip on his ankle tightened and he fell over, landing on his rear end and coming face to face with Alfred F. Jones.

"HOLY TIM HORTON'S AL!" he shouted (although whenever Matthew shouted it was barely above normal speaking volume anyway) "Y-you almost gave me a heart-attack, eh!?"

Matthew felt his heart pounding a military cadence in his chest at three times the appropriate drumming speed and he raised a hand to his chest and pressed it there as if to quell the sound of his startled heartbeat in his head. He took three deep breaths and sighed on the fourth. "What are you swimming in the pool for? It's the middle of November, you know."