~Music Recommendation: House on Fire by Sia.
...
~CASSELBA'S POV
I REMEMBER THE FIRST TIME Clarence touched me. It wasn't soft or mild. Back then, it had been fierce. Chemical. Like this kind of longing described in the pages of a medieval novella. It was passion. We hadn't been thinking. We were just feeling. And touching. And doing so much more.
Back then, it was at the Inferno. We had known what we wanted. And we went for it.
But now, in the present with her, I can think of no other thing than to go slow. To feel the slow burn of her eyes and the feather caresses of her palms. It's nothing callused or harsh. What it is, is beautiful and soothing.
