If I was ice,
he was fire.
Melting away the socially acceptable
curves and smooth opinions.
Melting down to my flaming obsidian core,
dripping like magma down trembling ice.
He kissed me there,
my most tender spot.
I shuddered so hard the earth broke away.
“You don’t have to be human
if you don’t want to,” he said.
I could barely hear him
over the melting,
the glowing, the merging.
“I don’t want to.”
My voice broke like I was fifteen.
“I’ve never wanted to.”
With his teeth,
he peeled off my icy skin
and the fire in my heart burned me.
“Stop!” hung in my throat
but it wouldn’t come out.
I didn’t want it to.
He pressed into me.
His hands,
his chest,
his thighs,
mine.
Our mouths merged and
I could no longer breathe.
His magma fills my lungs.
It hurts like hell,
but I’ve never been held like this.
This must be how it feels to be loved.
“Innu,” he says with my mouth,
and my heart quivers for him.
“Who should we melt first?”
A/N: This is an idea I’m playing with for Necromantic, where Innu falls in love with a chaotic, physical-world-hating spirit and gets himself into trouble.
Not sure what Necromantic is? You can read the first chapter here!
Protagonized. 
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