(no subject)

[bright-burning.livejournal.com]

Fire's still somehow wrong around the edges when she slips into the bar tonight, something nagging like she's not exactly the right shape or in the right place or really there at all. She doesn't particularly seem to care either, and trails the smell of smoke behind her as she drops a few slightly charred bills on Bar's surface.

When she moves to a booth, it's with a self-satisfied smile and she doesn't bother to hide the flames dancing just under her skin and in her eyes, just settles back to burn tiny twists of pine bark and fir needles in her palms.

If you look closely, she's not using her lighter.