Cassius’s head snapped in my direction, his eyes sad. “Then you destroy all that you hold dear.”
“I thought we held nothing dear.”
“It is smarter not to feel.”
I narrowed my eyes and glared at him, he’d completely ignored the question.
A heavy sigh slipped past his lips. “Better not to care. Then the pain doesn’t slice all the way to the bone.” He shrugged. “Surface cuts.”
“Are more easily infected,” I pointed out. “Sometimes deceiving in looks… they appear easily fixed, but scratches bring in more bacteria, causing a slow break down of the skin, of the organs in the body, killing you before you even knew you were sick.”
“In rare cases.” Cassius lowered the flame with his hand. “You are correct.”
“So, control the fire.” I stood, brushing the fur to the snowy ground. “I’m sensing a theme here, I need to control everything or lose control and kill.”
“Killing is fun,” Cassius said in a hollow voice. “At times it helps.”
“At times?”
“In the moment,” he corrected. “It helps.”
“That’s what I thought.”
He hid his yawn behind his hand and stood.
“You aren’t really getting much sleep right now,” I said in a guilty voice.
“I shall sleep when I’m dead.” He flashed me a grin, lifting his hands into the air. Snow started to fall, landing only on us, missing the fire completely.
“I like that trick,” I whispered, holding my hands out to catch the snowflakes.
“I knew you would.” Suddenly he was next to me, his hands holding mine in place as giant snowflakes kissed my skin. “You’ve loved snowflakes since you were born.” I expected him to be smiling at the memory; instead his eyes were black soulless pits of despair as his breathing slowed.
“You saved my life as a child… and as an adult again.”
“Saved the one who would later kill me.” He nodded. “Poetic, isn’t it?”
“Tragic.” I caught a snowflake and pressed it against his palm. “I was thinking tragic.”
Cassius wet his lips, his eyes focusing so intently on my mouth I had no choice but to lean in.
The flames sparked higher.
The snow fell harder.
We moved closer.
Our lips touched.
The fire roared to life.
“Control the fire,” he whispered against my mouth. “Control the flame.” He licked my lower lip, then kissed me harder as I greedily grasped for pieces of his hair tugging him against my body.
With a moan, he lifted me into his arms, his mouth making love to mine, kissing me so tenderly that I had to hold back tears.
He was kissing me with emotion.
Actual emotion.