When he threw the still burning lighter into the forest, he grabbed my arm and buried his face in my neck, even though I wanted to hurry towards the lighter. "There will be fire," I said as if it was normal. I could feel him smiling.
"It is okay. Just once..." he said, his lips sinking into my neck. "I want to see what it's like to be burned, not to burn."
"Pars..."
"Yes?" He was unkind to him. He was not my Pars.