𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒 | 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯

➥ lorraine; flames

The air fills with smoke as tongues of fire lick the building, devouring the architecture. I watch as the pristine white turns into charcoal black, slowly covering the building. Lorraine nudges my side, small smile on her lips.

"As much as I'd like to watch, we need to go." I look at her, she cocks her head. I look at the pretty girl who doesn't like me back.

"Yeah, let's go." I say, taking one last glance at the method that also killed my parents. It's ironic that we just used it to kill our target and that the flames don't scare me. Not that they ever did, even when the voices of my family were consumed by it. In fact the colours bring me such comfort I concerned many of my previous mentors.

Other than Lorraine, who is the same age as me and the one who rescued me from the house in her flame coloured dress. Which may be one of the reasons for my indifference. We get in the car as she drives back to the tent we've been hiding away in surrounded by a forest.

The sky is inky when we arrive and the temperature has dropped massively. Lorraine gets out of the car first and I watch her stand by the nearby stream, watching the water pass. She walks back over and I shiver as I get out the car, Lorraine pulling me in close as we jog back to the tent.

I grab the last of our previously scavenged wood and place it in the pit, waiting for my coworker to bring the firelighters and lighter. She jogs back and throws a hoodie and joggers at me. I don't bother going inside the tent, the cold intruding on it already and instead pull them on in front of her.

The wood starts to flicker until it is consumed completely. I hand her the saucepan and tins of soup so she can heat them up. I collapse next to her on the fallen oak tree, wrapping my cold body around hers as she works efficiently. She emptys the contents into the saucepan and suspends it over the fire with the tripod and the heatmat.

She pulls me down to the floor, back resting against the log to close her eyes. I watch as the light flitters across her skin, showing the curves of her lips, the only noises being running water and the fire's whispering. "Y'know." She speaks, light reaching her eyes as their colour combats the red, "I don't understand how you're so fascinated by fire after it killed your family." I laugh and she looks at me, confused. I look away.

"I met a person that day, whose dress matched the fire. And who looked gorgeous in its light. I fell in love with her. " I explain, looking back at her from the flames. Her eyes soften and her chest rises and falls rapidly. The wood cracks and spits, water from the nearby stream filing it's silence.

"Y/N, I was the only woman on that job." She mumurs, as if not allowing herself to accept the information I just supplied her with. As if denying that she's worthy of love at all.

"I know." She looks at me, eyes wide. I shake my head and look away, hoping the fire will warm me up quicker in the cold outdoors. Her hand grasps my chin and pulls my face to look at hers. Except there's not much looking as she immediately kisses me.

Her mouth is warm and her hands are too - cupping my jaw gently. I pull her onto my lap, wrapping my arms around her waist, the fire crackling in the background. The smell of wood, warming soup and Lorraine Broughton fills my senses. Her lips tasting of vanilla and everything sweet.

She pulls away. "If it helps any, I fell in love with a girl covered in soot who jumped in the river by her house to clean it off." She explains and my stomach flips. I'd forgotten about that. "It's why I have a fascination with water." She whispers against my lips before pressing them to mine again.