He gently caressed her pale white skin. There was no trace of color anywhere. Her skin was so pale. It was as white as snow. He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, or, perhaps, it was because of his hot, watery, and blurred vision. Once again, he quickly and roughly rubbed his eyes. Then he realized that he had never really actually looked at her this closely. How many years had she been by his side? This time, with a firmer hand, he cradled her cheek with his cupped hand. Not only was her skin colored a ghostly white, but it was also ice cold. It was so freezing cold that his hand seemed to be stuck to her cheek. Perhaps she was trying to take some of the life he had in his hands. He would let her take it. He would give all of his never-ending immortal life to her. Take it! His watery eyes furiously searched for life. And once again, there was no trace of color anywhere. There was no trace, no trace at all, nor was there any life in what was left of his already crushed heart.