Title is your warning ⚠️

I do not know if a warning is necessary, buuuut…

not reaaally the prompt, but here’s to make it the prompt: The narrator was trapped in the water, while soldiers fired at them, waves crashed on them, and thunder roared at them.

Here ya go—

|__________|

Guns click, guns fire, burning skin and bone, till every enemy fell from their high, high thrones, till every child and soldier had collapsed in pain, till every soul left realized no one could win this game.

The water of the past splashed with tints of red, it held onto parts of everyone who had bled, against what they believed, they fought, till very death to whom they had been caught.

Guns clicked; they fired at the innocents, those that swam away, knew their lives would never again commence. It seemed to be destined for my friends, as the fire burned on the shore, signaling lives’ ends.

The guns clicked, aimed in my direction. They drew like sharks to the blood’s watery connection. I don’t feel the red around me, I’m almost numb. Once I was the smartest of all of us, now I’m simply dumb.

Smart people don’t wait for the guns to click. They don’t wait for a wound to pierce and the blood to flick. The guns clicked, they fired to the water, as not only bullets came, but so did animals who slaughter.

The guns had clicked and they had fired, but I waited for more pain until I felt on my wrists, wires. A cold, cold wind splashed across my face, almost as if the water from the memory of such a place.

I waited, but not because I was smart. The memory of the guns had torn me apart, till I landed in the cold, lonely hospital bed, until short moments later, my soul had fled.

Just remember, the guns only _clicked _until I was dead.

I stand in the middle of a field, my house a few hundred feet behind me, a angry thunderstorm booming above me. Rain like knives drop down and feel as if they cut my skin, but I take no notice. I just lift my gaze up to the sky, watchig the clouds.

“I hope you’re up there, because if not, I’m here for noth-“

BOOM!!

I start to talk, but thunder interrupts me. I chuckle, knowing that my child IS up there, letting me know with their sassy interruptions they always had when they were alive.

RUMBLE!

I chuckle once more, because my child is saying, ‘get on with it!’

“I-I miss you. More than you’ll ever know. I wish I hadn’t let you go to Stacy’s. Then you’ll never had been there when your dad was. I’m sorry, Annabelle.” I say, my gaze dropping to my feet, guilt rushing over me like a wave.

I collapse to the ground, crying. The salt of my tears and the sharp rain combine, soaking deep into my skin, imbedding pain in. The long wheat stems around me wave in the storm and poke my skin, but I take no notice. I curl into a ball, sobbing. I mentally lash myself, saying that it’s my fault, I deserved to die instead of Annabelle, shaming me for my choice.

The storm growls above me, like my daughter telling me to get up, to get safe, but this time I ignore her. I just lay there, my tears turning silent, curled up with the heavy blanket I left out.

“I’m sorry.”

The sky is screaming for help as I trudge through the muddy walkway near my house. I’m half-tempted to scream out for help myself as I search for my fallen house keys. I could break a window but then I’d have to pay a large sum of money that I’d have to scramble around to find the funds for. It wasn’t worth it, so I continued the search for my keys. My fingers are muddy, dirt is trapped under my nails, and I probably look unrecognizable with how drenched I am.

I hate this house. This old house that I’m supposed to care for because it’s been in our family too long to sell. My sister, Lois, never came around here. She said it was because she was too busy with the kids and her teaching job at the school but I knew the truth. She hated this place as much as I did. Something in that house was always breaking, whether it be a floorboard, a toilet, or the kitchen sink. I was so sick of it, yet as the eldest daughter, it was my job to live here and take care of our family legacy. I felt more like a junkyard overseer than a house owner.

A loud, rumbling thunder halts me in place as a flash occurs with it. Great, I think, now I’ve got to worry about lightning. Sure, it was a rarity to get hit, but I wasn’t taking no chances. I move even quicker as I dig my hands into the ground, and then finally I touch something. It’s not key-shaped at all. Whatever it is, it is round like a ball. I pull it out, holding it upward, and use the heavy rain to rinse it off. Once it’s clean, I stare up at it and see it’s an…eye? It’s gotta be some kind of eye-shaped ball or maybe something that belongs to a doll but it feels too fleshy. Almost like how I imagine a real eye would feel.

I stare at it a bit more, studying it. As I do so, the strangest thing happens. The pupil moves—almost like it’s studying me. I scream, dropping the eye back into the dirt. Another rumble of thunder comes as the rain continues to pelt me. I almost lose my balance but somehow manage to stand steady.

“Looks like someone finally found my eye…”

I sharply turn my head, my eyes widening as I see a one-eyed man staring at me. I lose my balance as I try to run away.

“Now, now, Laura Allen, has no one ever told you to never wander out in the woods alone?” The one-eyed man has a sinister grin as he studies me. “You never know what hungry creature might be out there.”

As I find fear overwhelming me, I realize something. This one-eyed man wasn’t a man at all. Even though it’s hard to see with the heavy rain pounding on me, I make out gills on his hands. Hands with fingers that are meshed together to look like fins. His skin is a bluish-green, and he is inching too close to me.

I try to get up, but I fall back down. Still, I refuse to become this creature’s meal. I move by crawling, pulling myself up, then trying to make another run for it. Again, I fall, although this time I feel small, sharp teeth in my leg. I kick off the creature with all my strength, pushing myself up so I could stand. When I manage to do so, I make my way up and practically jump to try to get closer to the house.

“You Allen women all think you’re fighters but just cause your grandma poked out my good eye don’t mean you’re not gonna be my next meal, sweetheart.”

I turn around, surprising him, and land a heavy punch. The heaviness of my soaked clothes makes me have to use more effort to move my arm. I almost want to look on as I watch him fall, but I don’t. Instead, I keep moving. I make it to the porch, then punch the front window. The sound of shattering glass is not louder than the thunder that screams above me.

I’m exhausted, but I ride the wave of adrenaline to keep moving.

My fist is bloody, but I push myself through the window, letting myself fall onto the floor like a flopping fish. I stay there for a minute and listen out for any movement, but nothing has followed me. The house is filled with only the sound of thunder and my labored breathing. Gathering my strength, I peer out of the window and see that creature glaring at my broken window. Yet he makes no move to come closer. I breathe heavily as I look out the window with relief on my face.

Maybe this house was good for something.

— Thunder shook the ground as Zane saw a bright lightning bolt hit near the metal-bared window. He was still at the same wall that he was at hours ago, unable to take his eyes off the doll. —

… Meanwhile…

— Aaron sips his coffee and watches his brother. —

”Is he dead?” Travis wonders.

”Nah just making sure the doll won't move,” Aaron says slicking back his hair.

”But the doll isn't possessed.”

”Yeah but Zane is paranoid.”

— Just then, lightning shot through the metal bars following the line of metal beds to Zane foot. —

”AHHHHHHHHHHH,” Zane screams, he shakes for a few seconds until smoke rises from his slightly chard hair.

— The two brothers sit wide-eyed as Aaron drops his cup. The prank went a little too far. —

”Oops…” —— —— —— —— Part 2 of NAHHHHH

I return to consciousness falling. The sky around me is dark, the roiling clouds lit up by periodic lightning bolts, strong wind blowing this way and that in no predictable pattern. Then the clouds part, and I see what I’m falling toward. Below me is a tortured landscape—sharp, broken-looking mountains like shards of obsidian, deep canyons full of rushing, raging water surging between mountain peaks, cascading off cliffs onto the broad plateaus, glinting with the shallow water covering them. The lightning seems to be the only source of illumination, but it strikes frequently enough to provide more than adequate light to see what I’m falling toward. Directly beneath me, on a small plateau falling in steep cliffs on all sides, is a temple, gleaming in the brilliant flashes as if made of polished mirrors. I recognize it instinctively, almost-memories telling me that it is where I am meant to be. But I’m falling fast, too fast. I reach desperately for the threads I know are there, the natural pathways that let me control my own flight, but they evade me. If anything they are surging around me, bristling and deadly, ensuring my demise. I fall faster and faster, coming closer and closer to the gleaming temple. Then I turn my head and see someone else falling beside me. It’s like the sky has become a mirror. Dressed in black soldier’s garb, short dark hair shot through with gold, skin neutral gray, eyes bright violet-touched silver, but otherwise she looks exactly like me. It’s creepy, seeing your own features reflected on someone else’s face, especially using a different color palette. She locks eyes with me, and the hatred in her gaze throws me off balance. Then the temple rises up beneath us and in a flash of violent light—

‘Elva!’ I wake up drenched in sweat, electricity crackling in my hair and at my fingertips. Zara is kneeling over me, hands on my shoulders, Ikaros on one side, Luxia on the other. The only ones that can withstand lightning, I think, and roll onto my side, pushing up into a sitting position. I run my hands through my hair, attempting to tame its aspirations of increasing my height all on its own. ‘Nightmares?’ Zara asks, full of concern. I nod. Ikaros and Luxia go back to bed then, but Zara, I realize, is fully dressed, her eyes bright and awake. She moves to stand by the window, hands clasped behind her back. I crawl carefully around the bodies of my unit-mates and climb off the bed. There’s a violent thunderstorm outside, and when I reach carefully toward it I sense a new storm spirit, figuring out what it means to exist. ‘Sorry about that,’ I say sheepishly, keeping my transmission quiet so as not to disturb those that managed to sleep through my dreams. ‘I haven’t had a dream like that in years. I’m not sure what triggered it.’ ‘Do you remember the face of the warped mirror?’ She inquires by way of an answer, meaning. Of course she’s skimmed the gist of the dream from me. I don’t even need to think about it. She’s still there, hovering in my mind. Zara nods, then presses one hand flat to the window, eyes unfixed, brows furrowed. ‘You remember when we were Grays, when you were afflicted by these dreams?’ ‘Of course.’ ‘Well, she looks remarkably similar to that girl. Similar enough to be the same person, if aged a few years.’ I scowl in thought. ‘She does. She also looks like me. Just on a different color scheme.’ We stand in silence for a while, then Zara asks, ‘Are you going back to bed?’ I shake my head. ‘I don’t think I would be able to get back to sleep. I’m still full of adrenaline from that nightmare. I think . . .‘ She catches what I’m thinking, and grins. ‘Let’s go.’ From the roof, the storm is deafening. Zara throws her head back and inhales deeply, eyes closed, her hair whipping around her face. ‘I can finally breathe,’ she says, in a rare moment of vulnerability, and I catch a fleeting impression of her day, which she once again spent elsewhere. I stare up at the sky, rain and wind pelting my face. Lightning flashes overhead, a distinctive blue cast to it. This is one of my creations. Hello, young one, I say to it, stretching out my hand in the direction of its heart, whirling some distance away. Are these not glorious skies? Yes? The spirit answers in a childlike voice, sounding confused. Who and what are you? You are my mother, and yet you are not. My inner storm rears its head, and now I am the one to throw my head back, breathing in the night air, full of water and wind and charge to feed the beast within me. Almost without warning it surges up and out, wings of cloud forming in an instant. The great thunderbird screams a challenge to the youngling, who cowers, shrinking in on itself. I wrench my storm back, concerned that I have turned the poor thing against me, but after a moment it gathers itself, taking on a concrete form—a winged foal. It screams in reply, and now I smile, and leap up into the thunderbird, my body merging with my storm. I glance back once, and see Zara crouched at the peak of the roof, watching with appreciative eyes. ‘Go,’ she transmits. ‘Fly. Chase the night and don’t come back until dawn has overtaken you.’ And I do. The glorious fusion lets me forget my dreams and revel in the power of flight. The little one keeps pace the whole time, wings spreading a little wider with every hour that passes. With sunrise at our backs we soar, pursuing the shadows across a landscape of endless trees and mountains and water. We notice habitations from time to time, schools with their walls fully guarded, communities tucked into the natural flow of the land. Most of the day creatures are asleep, tucked into their little dens and cozy nests, while the night creatures roam free, stalking a quiet world while far above, we soar. And when dawn does overtake us, we’re nearly back where we started. The young storm, doubled in power and confidence during our flight, leaves me behind and continues on, faster and freer than I with my mortal roots could ever be, while I drift down onto our roof, the storm and I separating, then it coils back into its place in my chest and I open the window, slipping inside as quietly as I can. Zara’s sitting in the windowsill opposite me, while the rest of the room is empty. “You look better,” she comments. “And the skies are clearer now, so I’m guessing it helped?” “Yes.” “Good, because we have a meeting in fifteen minutes. You’d better get dressed.”

“…I bet you taste expensive, pourin’ up, up, up by the liter. If you keepin’ up you’s a keeper…”

The car door is open, the music fills the air around the couple as they spin around in the rain, laughing and pulling each other close.

“Girl you might be a problem…”

Rylee pulls Ravi close and he spins her out across the wet pavement. Thunder roars overhead, lightning flashing, the wind whipping her hair.

“Let me take you dancin’, two-step to the bedroom, we don’t need no dance floor…”

Rylee let’s her head fall back when Ravi spins her again, the rain dripping from her hair in a spiral as she’s spun, running down her back. Ravi shakes the rain from his hair as the beat shifts and gets faster.

“Ever since I met you, no need to imagine. Baby all I’m asking… is let me take you dancin’…”

The beat slows, computer programmed noise starts and Ravi pulls Rylee close, pushing her hair back and smiling. Water drips from his lashes, shimmering as it falls.

“Like, da, da, da, da. Da, da, da, da…” “Girl you might be a problem…” “… you can see it in my eyes…” “Let me take you dancing.”

Their heartbeats beat as one, faster and faster with the beat, the moment moving too fast to grab.

They’re both breathing hard against each other, smiling shyly and staring into each other’s eyes.

Thunder roars overhead and Rylee asks, “Ravi, do you love me?”

“I will always love you,” Ravi replies, leaning closer to Rylee.

“Kiss me,” Rylee whispers, shocked that it fell from her lips like honey from the bottle.

“Rylee…”

He leans forward under an urge, his lips crushing hers. She pours into him, pushed against his body, biting his bottom lip and smiling.

He pulls away first, both breathing harder as he puts his forehead against hers. She smiles shyly and closes her eyes again, her lashes brushing against his cheek. She stays like that, feeling his warm body against hers in the pouring rain.

“I told you so,” he whispers, still leaning into her. “I’ll always love you.”

“Oh come on! That would never happen like that!”

Pippa covers her mouth with the star blanket to muffle her giggles. Salen notices her poor attempt and throws two pieces of popcorn at her.

She loudly laughs as she shields herself. Then she grabs the pieces and pops them in her mouth. “Pip, you have to admit that Lara Jean would choose John Ambrose if they were real people,” Salen points aggressively to the TV screen to the aforementioned characters.

“I don’t disagree with you. Your passion for these fictional characters is just amusing to watch,” Pippa explains.

“She is just so much more comfortable with John Ambrose. She even says that!” Salen rants further. Pippa smiles at her best friend. She gives a hundred percent with everything, even when talking about why fictional relationships are not or would not work out.

A boom of thunder from the outside storm scares Salen and she jumps, popcorn going flying around. Pippa giggles and picks up the pieces.

Salen rights herself and shakes off her surprise.

“Speaking of romance, how are things with Cotton?” Salen loves gossip. Somehow she is never involved but knows all the information.

There is no mirror, but Pippa must have a dreamy smile on her face. “We are surprisingly good. I had my reservations with him being Water Craze, but I think he’s turning over a new leaf,” she gushes. She never knew being with Cotton would be like this.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Who knew the one guy I try to set you up with is your incredibly handsome, super rival?” They laugh at the coincidence.

“You know, I always knew there was something between you and Water Craze. Your witty banter only happens for people destined for love,” she says, hanging half off the sofa.

She turns away from her friend but hides a smile in her shoulder. “You watch too many romance movies.”

“No, in the movies, the banter is so not believable. With you and Cotton, it’s real.”

The rain pounds on the roof harder, louder. She glances at the window, water streaking the glass, distorting the backyard.

“Cotton took me to a movie I said that I wanted to see.” She only mentioned it in passing and he remembered. While that may seem like a small thing, it’s the little details that matter. It’s a good start.

“You didn’t have a date in the sky?” Salen teases, shining her phone flashlight at her. She waves a glowing hand and the beam changes its straight trajectory.

“We’ve been trying to keep our time powerless. For the time being at least.” Once she figured out it was him (which she would like to pat herself on the back with how quickly she clocked him), they agreed on keeping their…superpowers out of their relationship.

Inevitably, it will probably be a more serious conversation, but they’re good right now.

“That’s smart. Keep superhero/super rival and civilian life separate,” she comments, nodding her head in approval.

“You make us sound like Batman and Catwoman or something.”

“Well….aren’t you?”

“Wait does that make me Batman?” They fall into fits of laughter as they both imagine Cotton as Catwoman.

Just as they are coming down from that funny image, her phone dings. With one glimpse, she smooths her clothes and stands up.

“I better get home. My mom wants me back before the storm gets even worse.”

“Do you want me to drive you? It’s raining pretty hard.” Salen offers, concern evident.

“No, it’s only like a two minute walk.”

oOoOo

Once she starts her stroll, she regrets it. Her clothes soak, she can feel it down to her bones. Her hair sticks her skin. Socks uncomfortably soggy, making the disgusting squelching sound.

She crosses her arms and rubs to gain some warmth. If it wasn’t so dark, she would let her light out which would heat her up. It would be too obvious since it would cause her skin to glow.

Just as she begins to wish she took Salen up on her offer, she doesn’t feel the rain anymore.

The rain is still falling but not on her.

She tilts her head upwards and sees the droplets avoid her like there is an invisible umbrella.

“Having a good time there?” Twirling around, she faces Water Cra——Cotton.

“Thanks for the assist,” she greets. “No problem. Water is my specialty after all,” he shrugs.

“Wow, my own personal umbrella,” she quips. While they are a couple, that doesn’t mean they can’t still tease each other.

When they resume the walk, he continues to keep the water off of her. In fact, he shows off a bit with the rain drops twisting and swirling around them.

She can’t help but think of the romantic rain kisses she’s seen on TV. It is always after an argument and then they run back to one another for a kiss. Salen has got her watching too many romance movies.

So deep in her imagination, she didn’t realize she is right in front of her house until Cotton breaks her out of it, “So I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah, definitely.” She starts up her porch steps. Her foot pauses mid step. What’s stopping her?

Without a moment more to talk herself out of it, she sprints back to him and pulls him into a kiss.

If either of them could see themselves in third person, they would see a perfect movie scene. The rain falling, setting the scene. The droplets forming a stunning barrier, protecting them. Her hands shimmering, the light causing the water to sparkle.

It isn’t like a movie. It’s better.

The sky screamed its grief and sobbed its fury. Rain obscured Anna’s vision in translucent sheets as she crossed the street of the empty city. Everywhere, she could see families sitting out the storm in warm rooms and lonely people watching it from the safety of their homes.

Anna was alone.

Her boots slowly filled with water, which she barely felt amidst the rain. Wet strands of hair clung to her face, and her clothes plastered to her ice-cold skin. The wind was almost a physical force pushing her backwards, to the safety (was it really safe anymore?) of her house. The storm raged, its furious sound almost, almost drowning out her thoughts.

Still, her mind chose to rewind backwards to those nostalgia-tinted memories.

…

“Hey, it’s okay…”

Violent shivers racked Anna’s small frame. She huddled backwards in a corner, snot running down her chin. The lightning painted the room in terrifying flashes of clarity. Thunder boomed though the house, and Anna flinched and started crying again.

“Anna, look at me.”

Her vision blurred and re-focused again, and teary-eyed she desperately clung onto the image of her brother. Warm eyes colored in green and worry looked down at her. A tentative smile tugged the corners of his mouth upwards. Anna felt her shaking recede, slowly, into a manageable tremor. She smiled back at him.

“Let’s go down to the basement,” her brother suggested with a mischievous grin. “We’ll make some hot chocolate and play our favorite board games, okay? I’ll get you a blanket. It’ll be so much fun.”

Slowly, Anna felt her shaking limbs gain feeling again. She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. The thunder and lightning she could still hear shaking the house apart seemed a little bit less terrifying. She got up.

“O-okay…” she managed. “…thanks.”

…

Another blast of wind almost knocked Anna off her feet. Startled, she realized the water running down her face wasn’t rain. Tears spilled down her cheeks and nobody was here to wipe them away anymore. Shuddering, Anna lowered herself onto the ground. Water seeped into her pants and mercilessly, the rain chilled her to the bone.

Couldn’t one thing go right for me? She wondered (selfishly, hopelessly, desperately).

Her whole body began to ache in protest. She sobbed and drew shallow, painful, shuddering breaths, the tears spilling out of her like blood from a wound. Something vital inside her had been torn open, and she wasn’t even sure where it was.

When Anna looked up, something had changed. Bleakly, she stared out at the sky, the tears having calmed to a sniffle.

The rain had stopped…

Ollie. There he is. Standing right in front of me.

“C’mon!” He takes my hand and pulls me outside of the house.

His hand feels warm, and it makes me feel warm too.

The rain doesn’t stop, and neither does my heartbeat. I must say, I’m surprised.

He shakes his golden curls out, making any extra water fall to the floor. Even when it’s messy, it looks cute.

“Our clothes are gonna get wet!” I shout to him, over the sound of rain plummeting to the ground.

“Live a little!” He shouts back before spreading his arms out and doing a little spin.

He then gives me a lopsided grin.

“Hey! Watch it!” I say, after he splashes water from the floor at me.

I then copy, making him take a few steps back.

Before I can even think, he launches himself towards me.

I can’t believe this is happening right now.

His arms are slung around my body, trapping my arms. I feel paralysed. I can smell his strong cologne and try to take everything about him in.

Ollie pulls his head away from my shoulder, grinning again before loosening his grip.

“How about we dance?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Sure, Romeo” I say, trying to contain my excitement.

He takes both my hands and puts them on his neck before putting his hands on my waist, sending electric tingles all around my body.

The rain continues to fall and we sway to the sound.

Our bodies move ever so slightly closer, my eyes stuck in his ocean ones.

I watch his eyes move to my lips and my heart skips a beat. I can’t help but smile.

Before I know what’s going on, he presses his lips to mine.

He pulls away, for a second and I grin madly like a dog.

He opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off by crashing my lips to his. Our lips move in sync, along with our bodies. His arms wrap around my waist and mine curl around his neck, gripping onto his shoulders for support.

“That was, amazing” Ollie says speechless, once we finally separate.

“You could say that again” I say, before resting my on his chest and running my hands through his hair.

——————

A/N - I wanted to change up my writing style for today. Hope you enjoyed!

“Trouble in paradise?” A familiar British accent and confident swagger chase away all my thoughts of Rome. Rain splashes on the hem of my dress as he takes a seat on the curb next to me.

I wipe my nose on my sleeve noisily, which is definitely not attractive, but having snot running out of your nose is even less attractive. “Whatever floats your boat, Leo.”

I expect him to come back at me with a snarky response, but instead there’s just the sound of rain pattering on the cement. Or at least I think it’s still raining. I blink. The tears in my eyes do not want to go away now that Leo’s here.

We sit there for a few—awkward—moments until I feel him move closer to me. My breath catches, and I can feel the warmth of his own in my ear. I shiver. I should not feel like this around him, not when I have Rome.

But do I still have Rome, after tonight?

“What did that arsehole do to you?” Leo whispers into my ear.

Oh my God. All he did was whisper seven words, and my body’s acting like he kissed me with the intensity of a hurricane and the passion of a hundred roses and—

No. All he did was ask me a question.

“Uhm,” I swallow hard, trying to look unfazed by his effect on me. I meet his honey colored eyes—or are they amber?—and say in my strongest voice, “It doesn’t concern you.”

He looks hurt. “Evalie, how could you even say that?” Our faces are still close, close enough to touch. My heart is a hummingbird. “How many times have you cried because of him? How many times have I had to refrain from beating him up because he made you cry? How many times am I going to have to go home and cry because you choose him over and over even though he does this to you? How many times more are you going to push me away?”

Oh my God. My lip trembles from the cold, and I imagine I look like a mess. Straggly, rain-damp hair, puffy red eyes, and a snotty nose. But Leo is still looking at me like I am the sun and he has been without light for ten years.

“What are you saying?” I whisper to him, my heart thudding against my chest in hopes that it can break free and jump into Leo’s hands.

He inhales. “I’m saying…” He stands up and extends a hand. “Dance with me.”

“What?” I ask, standing up. I motion to my soggy dress and wobbly heels. “Wearing this? I’m the middle of the night?”

Leo nods, dead serious. “Don’t worry, darling. You look gorgeous as ever.”

My traitorous cheeks flame at the compliment. I still refrain from taking his hand, which is being held toward me invitingly. “Thank you, but I’m not worried about how I look. I’m more concerned about what’s going to happen when Rome comes outside and sees his girlfriend with—” I stop myself. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

I turn away before I can change my mind, but I can’t even take one step before Leo’s grabbed my hand and spun me into him with the skill and precision of a magician.

“Are you really going to go back to him?” He whispers, and if I hadn’t known better I would’ve thought he sounded jealous.

"I don't know," | blurt, and I realize l truly don’t. Why should I go back to Rome, when Leo makes me feel so much better? It's like why eat a slice when you can have the whole damn thing?

"You're right,” I say, looking him straight in those beautiful eyes. "Why should I go back to him when I can have you?"

His eyes light up with the fire of a thousand suns. The burning desire of a scarlet flame.

But still, he says, "Are you sure, Eva? I mean... I'm sure; you don't know how long I’ve been wanting this, but—”

I shut him up with the most wonderful, desirable, to-die-for kiss.

It is curiosity, spun sugar, and splashing in puddles. It is velvet, sweet candy, the feeling of a blanket when you’re cold.

He is the hottest flame, the coldest snow. He is the wettest rain, the sunset’s glow. He is everything and he is nothing. He is Leo, and now he is mine.