Ohgoshthisbookisawful Stories

Fire is my life, my power, my freedom. Ice is my opposite; ice is my weakness, my poison, my prison. I am fire, and he is ice. He hurt me, and I am vulnerable. Because of him, I am weak. Oh, no, I won't yearn for his pain, pray for his end, plead for his suffering. I don't want him dead. Not if I'm not the one to finish him off, anyway...