17. First Line: The fire was getting closer
The fire was getting closer. Closer. Closer. Closer. The flames reached out to her, grazed her skin, startled her — her, the girl who was so accustomed to the lonely cold.
What was this? She would shudder. But heat never made anyone shudder. She felt something trickling down her arms. What was it? Blood? Sweat?
She saw that it was her icy exterior. Melting. Melting. Melting.
She felt warm. Comfortable. There was a strange security within the flames, but she found herself overwhelmed by a strange sense of terror as well.
But she let herself be consumed.
And every part of her melted. Even her frigid heart.
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