YBC Challenge: The Second Day -- Orange

A loved and hated the cold.

For one, it gave her the liberty to wear the extensive amount of winter wear she had in her closet; long coats and boots were usually worn when chilly Decembers came. Cold weather meant warm coffee and hot chocolate; December weather meant Christmas sales and clothes for half the price. Cold weather gave her an excuse to cuddle up to her lover when the nights got extra frosty, an excuse to drink some alcohol to send warmth throughout her system. Christmas season showcased her generous side once Christmas shopping rolled in.

On another hand, the cold was a bitch.

Fog would be so intense that she couldn’t risk driving while cold winds would sneak into the three to four layers of clothing she wore on a particularly freezing day. Cold weather meant nearly getting frostbite and/or hypothermia while she was out on a case; it meant having Matt out more often since the fog would be an excellent advantage (or so Kenichi said). Cold weather meant lazy mornings and still-dark sunrises. Christmas season brought on the inner road devil in her when everyone was speeding and honking while in traffic.

And then there was the worst part of it.

Cold weather meant having to act like a freezer.

A was cold – literally cold. Passing of files and objects was usually met with the person’s hand jerking back due to shock. Your fingers are freezing, they told her, eyes laced with disbelief. The woman would merely shrug it off. How can you survive the cold like this? She wasn’t exactly quite sure how she was able to manage either – A always felt warm until someone else commented on the fact that their co-worker was a freezer.

In fact, she was the only one in Squad A who had such quirk. Thomas maintained his regular body heat while Peters and Touta radiated. Peters gave off an energizing aura to him while Touta oozed with warmth and charisma. A always noticed that the two men in particular were very warm and hardly had problem with the cold.

Peters explained that living in New Jersey toughened him up; Touta merely remarked that he was used to Japan’s climate. So A frequently made excuses to go near either of them just to warm up when the weather was getting to her. Frustratingly enough, coffee didn’t seem to do the trick.

But Matt did.

Matt was blazing. His presence reminded her of an open flame, of logs crackling with fire in the fireplace. Almost everything about him reminded her of dancing flame; from his wild ginger hair to the vibes he gave off when he was with her. Matt was wildfire.

Fire.

Even at twenty-three, fire made A nervous. She would always check around the kitchen when Matt cooked for both of them, making sure that each appliance was properly plugged and switched off after. She couldn’t stop her cringe every time he lit a match or flicked around with his lighter, flinching away from the kitchen when the sight of even the smallest flame danced in her green eyes.

After all, fire was what took everything away from her in the first place.

Fire roared and reared its head into everything at sight.

Fire took what she loved and reduced it into a state of decay.

So it was natural for her to be anxious around the sight of an open flame.

Matt knew, of course. He knew about her fear. She still woke up in the middle of the night in tears and sweat on the occasion and he’d be ready to take her into his arms and calm her down. During those times, he turned down his flame and comforted instead of roared.

Matt was fire. He was eye-catching and attention-grabbing, his vivacity a rough contrast to A’s occasional frostiness. He could be as gentle as a small flame or as outrageous as a forest fire. The Englishman would open his arms and A would sink right into them, burying her head in his chest, her nerves going aflame.

But like people and their fears, A kept her caution.

She didn’t want to be burned again.

Not this time.

* * * * *

“Are you still afraid?” A felt herself stiffen, the sudden comfort of lying on top of him gone. It was one of those nights – she had woken up with a jolt and scream and Matt immediately woke as well, knowing that A had just come from yet another bad dream.

It was a stupid question, really.

“Of course I am.” She peered up him and Matt kissed her forehead gently, A feeling herself to limp in his arms once more. “It took everything away from me. My mother. My father. My first home. The fire took everything. Of course I’m still afraid,” she sighed. She felt him hold her a little tighter and she attempted to relax, wanting to fall back asleep than talk about her own fears.

But Matt didn’t seem intent on moving on so quickly.

“Again,” he traced circles on her back and she shivered, “Are you afraid?”

“I answered you, didn’t I? Of course I am–”

“I heard you the first time, love.” Matt’s smile was faint as he comfortably held his lover in his arms. “What I meant was, are you afraid of me burning you?”

Her heart thudded painfully.

“W-What–”

“Because I remember what you told me when you were tipsy,” he continued. His voice went softer. “You’re ice and I’m fire. The fire to your ice. Something like that,” he told her. “You said something like me melting your frozen heart,” he teased, and she rolled her eyes. “But I can’t help but ask. Are you afraid?”

A could have scoffed and told him that she was afraid of actual flame and that he shouldn’t be silly about these things –

But deep down, a part of her whispered that yes, she was afraid of being burned again.

He saw it in her eyes. As much as she hardened her gaze and kept a neutral expression, he could read her eyes perfectly. She was avoiding his blue eyes and her grip on him went even weaker.

“Don’t be stupid,” she whispered. Her tone lost its bite. “Why would I be afraid?”

“Fire hurt you once. In many ways.” His eyes found her form and he rubbed her back gently, comfortingly. “It nearly burned your skin and your hair. Fire took away what you loved and fire turned everything to ash. It’s nice if you spot it from afar but gets more dangerous as you come closer and closer to it,” he murmured. “You have a fear of fire. A fear of loss.”

She stayed silent.

“So let me ask again: are you afraid?”

“I don’t want to be.” He blinked and looked at her. A shrugged out of his arms and moved to his side instead, eyes looking upward to the ceiling. “I don’t want,” she said yet again. “Not anymore. But you can’t blame me. I was hurt once. I don’t want to get hurt again. But.” She steadily met his eyes, green to blue, and touched his cheek. “I trust you.”

“Trust that I won’t burn you,” he guessed. She nodded.

“The fear won’t go away, Matt. Not really.” The woman closed her eyes. “It’s never really going to go away. I’ll still check the appliances and triple check the smoke detector to see if it’s still functioning. I’ll still be afraid of waking up and having you gone permanently.”

“I won’t–”

“But I’m taking the risk. I’m risking again because somehow, I know that risking will bring me somewhere greater.”

Somewhere with you.

“I’m going to burn.” Arms pulled her closer and she was wrapped in flame, the previous cold melting away. “I’m going to burn with you.”