She wanted to die. He wanted to live. ••• A hand grabbed onto my wrist, yanking me back just as the train rushed past, before I'd even had time to comprehend whether or not I'd carry out the action. I stumbled back into the person's chest, my heart jumping out as I swivelled around, startled to find myself staring into piercing dark brown eyes. "Were you going to jump?!" "No," I drawled out sarcastically, ignoring the intensity of his eyes as they bore into my own, "I just stand on the edge of train platforms at midnight because I feel like it." Seeing the stranger tense, I stepped away from the edge, feeling his hand let go of mine as I picked up my bag before moving to sit down on one of the platform benches. Letting out an evident sigh of relief, he sat down after tentative movements towards me, and I could feel his intense gaze raking across my features. His eyes never left me, I was sure of it, with every step both he and I had taken. "Are you okay?" He had asked warily, apparent apprehension in his deep voice while he spoke, "Do you want to talk about it?" "What's there to talk about?" I threw his question back at him, watching him study me for a few critical moments before his potent gaze switched to our surroundings. "I did just watch you nearly kill yourself; that might be a place to start?" ••• She didn't expect for a complete stranger to stop her milliseconds away from committing suicide. She didn't expect him to be so kindhearted and patient. He didn't expect to stop her from jumping in front of a train the first time they met. He didn't expect to find himself falling for the one girl he knew he shouldn't. [Word Count: 180,000 - 200,000]

Love, legacy, lies. We'll all burn for something. ••• "So, how would you want me to do it?" My gaze flicked up to Matteo's, a sinking feeling in my stomach as his words incited torrents of perturbation through my veins. The murkiness of his eyes were foreboding, like the ominous signs of a storm, but I couldn't break his gaze even if it might lead to my damnation. I may just drown if it meant I could ease the heat from the coals he sent searing against my skin. "Would you like to burn, like the Indigos did?" He stood to his feet, rounding the desk as I kept my eyes low, feeling my chest rise and fall much faster than it had been moments ago. "Would you like a slow, painful death, Miss Osikani?" ••• Morals would be their downfall, not the absence of it. As her lawyer, Matteo Riqueza had to defend everything he had ever detested: an affluent killer with insufficient remorse and an ability to submerge him in thoughts he ought to never speak aloud. As his client, Marigold Osikani had to tolerate the embodiment of her distaste: a judgemental hypocrite with obstinate self-righteousness and a way of making her wish she had just burned instead.