He was fire and you were ice.
Not the conventional campfire that people imagine, But a wildfire. His flames grow with every word he speaks to you.
Engulfed in his warmth you begin to melt, Why? Because you are merely an icicle hanging onto his every flicker of a word.
The closer you get to him the warmer you feel. You blush where you shouldn’t as he entombs his hands in your back.
Drip, you’re melting more.
Drip, you’re melting more. Drip, you’re melting more.
Drip, you’re melting more. Drip, you’re melting more. The fire has spread, he has you surrounded.
His ashy musk and scorching hands pull you closer. Your heartbeat catapults you higher than the moon.
He moves closer. Roaring in your ear, his breath only mocks you.
Naturally impatient, you want him.
Naturally impatient, you want him. You need him.
You know you shouldn’t give in.
You tell yourself it’s too risky.
Day after day you melt a little more.
It’s not good for you, But you can’t resist his heat.
You need to know how hot his flames can get.
You are melting, And you will melt until you are ash
But only for him.