The art of destruction was something so complex in it’s own, beautiful way—you felt drawn to it as a moth would to a flame. It was only natural that you’d find fire so fascinating.
Raw power, consuming everything in it’s way—shaping everything to it’s will, devouring all in it’s path like a hungry beast, a pure wrath of nature. Cleansing everything by burning away all potential imperfections.
“It’s gorgeous,” you heard yourself say—your voice coated with raspiness from the inhaled smoke surrounding you. You were unable to look away from the tangerine flames dancing before your eyes.
You only managed to peel your hungry gaze away once you spotted the person who gave you the gift of this destruction—One, with black smeared on their face, grey ash in their hair.
Your lips twitched in a smile, as you noticed the fire in their eyes—a reflection of destruction, a promise of violence so primal, so beautiful it made your knees weak.
“I told you to keep your distance—I could’ve burned you.” One’s voice is stern and growling, reminding you of all those times mere inches parted the two of you as they held a knife to your throat, just barely teasing your skin with the coldness of the blade.
“And I’ve told you before,” you rasped out, taking a step closer, ignoring every instinct that screamed to Run, as you closed the distance between yourself and One. “I would let you burn me whole, and leave nothing but ash, if that was what you wanted.” You purred, glancing into those wild eyes that tempted you with the promise of blood and tears.
One flicked open their lighter—now engraved with number 4—taking a step closer. “Some day,” they start, their voice dropping into deeper tone, “I’m going to test this.”
“I’ll let you.” You said, without hesitation. You were starving for it—for the mere possibility of another clash between the two of you. “And I will smile as I do.”










