THE CRIMSON LIGHTING glows on his skin like liquid metal, slashing and fierce. His white hair turns different shades of red and his pink lips seem red as blood. A slow blush creeps up their necks as Aaron glares at them. His eyes are smouldering and his jaw is hardened, but there is also the unmistakable play of desire in their depths.
His hands are clutched tight into fists at his sides but Arielle knew he only stayed rigid because he feared what his hands would do if released. But Arielle wanted the release. His fingers moving on her like in their world; when their minds danced together. She wanted to feel his calloused palm on her, his lightning-and-rain scent coaxing her body into a slow torture.
