He softens her, and the realization is terrifying.
Despite his command of the cold, he warms the most frozen parts of her, melting away her resistant and leaving her soft and pliable beneath his hands. He must know, she thinks, studying his handsome face more closely. He must know the effect his roguish grin has on her, his easy manner and relaxed smile leaving her unable to do anything but eventually comply with whatever he asks of her, even if all she wants to do is resist. Her spine straightens as she thinks on it, as she looks on him, as she nearly shudders.
“You know exactly what I think of you,” she says, her voice a little cold, sharper than even she intended. She wants to shove him away, wants to turn on her heel and run, that familiar fear fluttering in her chest, but she doesn’t, and that is even more terrifying. Instead, she remains rooted to the spot, her dual-colored eyes studying his face, remaining quiet even as he beckons her forth, crooking a finger at her.
She loathes the weakness in her when she complies.
She nearly growls with fury when she steps forward.
Instead, she just closes that small distance between them, her slender body coming alongside his own, wondering at the way the touch feels like a relief and a failure all at once. “Okay,” she breathes, and the word nearly gets tangled in her throat, on her tongue. “I can’t imagine there’s that much to see,” she adds with a sniff, as if the contempt and the cold words could mask the butterflies that flutter in her belly.
As if she can shield herself from the want that spreads in her veins by rebuffing him immediately.
But she knows better, somehow she knows better, and she walks forward with him all the same.
and all of us, we’re meant for the fire, but we keep rising up and walking the wires
@[Fox]