Cold Front | Paul Lahote

vingt-deux

Snow flurried around the small clearing, the destruction of the couple visible by the large circle that showed nothing but debris and ice. Branches and leaves from the fallen trees were scattered around them, stumps stood cracked and splintered dangerously frozen over. Around them was ice, so much of it in dangerous points showing away from the pair that rested in the middle of the chaos on a bed of snow.

Fire and ice rested together as their skin touched carefully, clothes torn away and long forgotten in their haste. She lay beneath him, his arms pinning her to the ground gently- his face pressed close to her chest counting each and every time she exhaled.

He panted, tan skin kissed a beautiful golden colour caressing the plains of her snow-white body. His breath was visible in little puffs before him, the snow did nothing to bother him- the heat of his own skin melting it away.

Erica lay quietly, fingers brushing his dark hair- tugging occasionally earning a soft grunt and a growl from the boy. He tightened his arms around her and she hissed at the force that he used.

He was lucky that he healed incredibly fast for she had gripped onto his skin roughly earlier before, skin breaking beneath her finger tips and blood staining her deft fingers. She had bruised him, bloodied him in the heat of the moment.

Even now she could see the marks faintly on his skin, slowly fading away and she smiled at it, crimson eyes drinking in the damage that she had inflicted. A sly smile puled at her lips, breathing him in- the smell of him and his blood in the air was driving her mad.

He was sinful, the feel of him better than any other she could imagine- his body that of the darkest temptation. His warmth suffocated her, drowning her in everything that is him. The hum of his vein was a serenade made specifically for her.

"What happens now?" he mumbled, lips grazing her collar bone.

Glancing down to him, she arched an eyebrow before rolling her head to the side. She focused on he things in the distance, at the snow that was pilling high around them and the sparse sunlight that broke through the trees a few miles away from them.

"I guess I go back to playing the bad guy, and that you go back to playing secret hero of the tribe," Erica told him, not bothering to react when his growl vibrated against her skin.

"Why? Why can't you just let this go?" he hissed. Paul pushed himself away from her hastily, as if she was a disease that he didn't want to contract.

"Let this go? You think this is easy for me? They murdered my brother, they stole from me the one person that has been at my side since as long as I can remember," the blonde stood to her feet, hands clenching at her side and the snow around them picked up- whipping around them and sticking to her cold skin.

"You were just like this before he died so don't go blaming all of this on his dying," Paul rounded on her- a scoff passing from Erica's lips at the sight of the fury in his eyes.

"You don't understand this, do you? I am a monster, a demon with no soul. I grew up in a time where if you strayed from the path of god then you would be forced to live an eternity of damnation. I didn't have a choice like those Cullen's did about being the good little creatures of your dreams. James and I had no idea what we were until we became stronger than the monsters," Erica crept closer, lithe body meddling in the snow as- disappearing from sight, her voice echoing around them. "I didn't want to fear the demons of the world, so I became one. Humanity means nothing to a person that has no beating heart."

Paul spun around wildly, eyes searching for his imprint that he could no longer see through the heavy snow. "It's your fault for choosing to become a bloodsucker."