They say she’s kissed by fire. That her skin glows like the sun. Her hair is like flames and she has a warm smile.

But her eyes tell a different story. They’re like ice, blue pits that lead you to the wildness in her heart.

She’s my warm ice. The Iceberg that stops me from going too far. The snow that soothes my burning heart to sleep. When I’m burning, I find her and let her cold keep the flames at bay.

She’s the woman I'll burn the world to save.

~

They say he's touched by ice. That his skin is as pale and cold as snow. His hair is the colour of a cold night and his smile is like an Iceberg; cold… deadly.

But his eyes tell a different story. They’re like fire, the colour of the very wood that feeds it. They show the storm raging in his veins.

He’s my cold fire. A ring of flame that circles me, protects me, keeps me warm, and prevents any other from coming closer. When I am lost, I just follow his heat.

He’s the man I go to when I am searching for home.