I watched Alina from across the seating area.
She watched the fire. The hospitable expression she held before vanished without proof it was ever there at all. As upsetting asthe new information was, I understood the frustration. I suppose it was good to do something other than sulk tonight.
“Are you sure you want to go?” I asked her as we approached a field, an almighty, blazing fire lighting the way.
“I’m not tired; I want to see.” She gripped my hand as we approached the giant flames.
The heat stretched across the snow, melting it as we got closer to expose the dried grass. Many people put down blankets as they drank cider and beer. Food was brought in carts for sale. Women and children danced around the fire joyously as a small group played odd, haphazard instruments that were full of playful folk tunes.
Alina’s face was so bright, so curious about the entire endeavor. There were a few bales of hay stacked in random spots on the ground for sitting.
“I didn’t think a fire could get this big; it’s blinding.”
I glanced over at her. She was doe-eyed, taking in the scene and the warmth of it all. Some color had returned to her face, or perhaps it was simply from the heat of the fire.
A group of children ran past us, giggling. One of them stopped and stared at Alina, seeming surprised at the unfamiliar face. He shouted something at his friends in a language I didn’t know, but then he took her hand.
She looked unsure before the little boy dragged her away.
They wanted her to dance for them. The children led her closer to the fire, jumping excitedly and twirling, trying to show her what to do.
She was painfully awkward, unsure of what they were saying, but with a few gestures from the children showing her howto dance, she followed along. It seemed to be some sort of folk dance consisting of simple steps and twirls that went along with the high-energy music.
I sat down on a bale of hay, admiring her from afar. I could see her form, backlit by the raging fire, though nothing could compare to the one that burned inside of her. The passion, loyalty, and strength—she was terrifying. But right now, she was like some goddess, in the presence of fire as fierce as herself.
It was like I could see her as time slowed. Her hair whipping around her as she spun, her smile brighter than ever, like no one was watching. Her cheeks were red from the excitement and joy of just being free. There was no one here to see her, no mask to wear, not a soul to judge. I was blessed to even witness her in a rare time such as this. It pained me terribly that she couldn’t always be this free.
Her frozen breath came out like smoke as she stumbled away, panting from the excitement of the dance. She walked over to the edge, far away from the heat, until she reached snow, flopping down on her back, cradled in the white powder.
I walked over to her slowly, as if I were approaching some wild animal that might flee at the sight of me. “You look feverish.”
“I feel happy.” She watched the endless sky, flakes of snow dappling her hair and making her cheeks look bright red.
I lay back, staring up at the stars next to her.
“Do you ever think about how we got here?” she whispered.
Her eyes never left the stars, and mine never left her. The reflection of them in her eyes was fitting, as they were wide with wonder, large enough to hold entire constellations in them.
“Why would you think on the past?”
“Because the future is infinite, and it is easier to wonder about things before us. Don’t you ever wonder?” Her eyes met mine finally, her chest rising and falling as she was regaining her breath.Her smile was so bright, so genuine and alive. It was so beautiful I could weep at the sight of her.
“I don’t think I care much for anything that came before you.” The words fell from my mouth; I hardly believed they were mine.
Her smile faded, but I quickly learned it wasn’t from displeasure. She rolled over on top of me, cupping my face as our lips locked.
My eyes were wide, and I couldn’t bring myself to close them immediately. I hardly believed she was real most days. I thought the scene would disappear if I blinked and woke up for it to have just been a hallucination. The moment was something I didn’t expect, but it made me think maybe I was the feverish one, in the midst of a dream.
I snaked my arms around her, a hand resting on the back of her head as I deepened the kiss.
She was perfect. My beloved tempest of storms and rage, of the quiet calm before a rumbling thunder, a force strong enough to move the stone that sat in place of a heart. Her lips were so cold it made me want to devour her entirely, to make sure she was never leeched of warmth again, to be the only one who touched her flesh until the day she died, and even then, I would sit at her grave until she returned to me in her next life. I didn’t care how long it took; what good was being immortal if you didn’t have something worth living for?
She broke our kiss, her lips just above mine, a teasing distance.
“Do you love me?”
“No,” my reply was nearly instant, and my heart squeezed tighter. “Love is too weak a word to describe what I feel for you, but simultaneously the only word I have to describe it.”
