@hotstuffxhannah
Black smoke rose into an equally black sky, embers rising into the night, little orange fireflies winking out into darkness. Flames licked at broken window frames, the fire consuming, engulfing, well on its way to an inferno.
Fuck. Someone had beat him to it.
Aaron took a drag on his cigarette, listening to the roar of flames, the crack of wood as something gave way inside and crashed. The world was alight in fiery tones. The incredible heat drifted toward him, but also from him, his personal heat signature more subtle than what burned. There was potential for more, especially if he stayed here, siphoning off the burning, but he had no intention to stick around. The authorities would be here soon. He'd light out once he heard sirens.
Until then, he watched the house burn, wondering if he'd still get paid for the job if he took credit again for that other firestarter's work. Or was it all figuratively and literally up in flames?
Shit. Enough's enough.
He flicked the ash of his cigarette away from him, tearing his eyes from the fire to search the area. Some onlookers had come out of their apartments and businesses to watch too, ever curious. But there'd be someone else standing alone, admiring their handiwork, their—his—job well fucking done.
And there someone stood a fair distance away, bathed in dancing yellow and orange light. A woman. What would be the chances? He studied her a moment, then decided to take that chance.
Aaron finished his cigarette, flicked it away, then walked toward her to close the distance.
