milliways_bar | (no subject)

"It is your element, this time of year. Is it not?" A soft voice floated up from the corner. Should he turn, he may see the light glint off a wine glass.

"Hello Cruel Thing."

With three feet of snow blanketing the ground, Jack is a good deal calmer nowadays.

"Hello frost-child." She countered, swirling her glass, seemingly fascinated by the patterns of light.

"Have you been well?"

"Is there snow?"

Yes.

"And you?"

"It's awful to hear you've been so well." She took a sip of her wine, careful not to spill it.

"Miserable."

"You are vindictive, then?"

Haha.

"Just because I won."

"Always." Thea confided.

"And you did not win."

"I am happy. You are miserable."

He won.

"And what evidence is there to suggest happiness is good? Your happiness will fade and then you will see."

She squeezed the glass tighter, almost unnoticably.

"And then summer will come and I will be tired. And then fall and I will be excited. And winter again, and happy again."

He rolls his eyes.

"This does not change. I have seen."

"And what of the human? When he leaves, you will be sad."

"Mercutio?"

He

"His corpse is mine. He will not leave."

"They always leave. This one could tell you that." She smiled sweetly.

"Of course I know nothing, I've only witnessed relationships for thousands of years."

"No."

He shrugs.

"You know nothing. I have kept the dead since the first cold, since ever and I am older than you. I know

"You are right. I do not know death. I have never died."

The taint of death on her, just for the barest second, the darkness. She could almost still feel it. But then there had been this warmth, this body.

My body.

Mine now.

"What makes you say that?" One swift movement and she stood up, to her full height.

"She is weak. I am not." The dark circles under her eyes said otherwise.

"You are fooling yourself."

He's now rather amused.

"Am I now?" Her gaze was cold, not that it should bother him.

"One vision, one hint of her beloved Viktor lying dead is all I need to show her and she crumbles. She is weak. I will outlast her."

He's standing, now, nose to nose with her, eyes bright.

"Ah, but it's fun to make you angry, little Snowdrop."

Her mood changed abruptly again as she circled him, singing softly. Something about winter and flowers.

"True."

He tugs at her hair. Semi-gently, spinning ice up it.

"Cruel thing."

"I like it. Call me it again." Her voice was sharp as a knife edge, bitter cold. In this close proximity to him she felt the chill clearly.

His voice is

One side of her mouth curved up, even as her hand followed, mere inches from his face.

"Like recognizes like."

His hand grabs hers.

And it

"Fire indeed." She half scoffed, managing to maintain her calm through the biting cold.

"You'll hurt her."

"But you'll like it."

The cold eases, slightly, to a skittering of crystals across her wrist, almost warm, barely brushing her.

"I do not want this vessel to die."

She breathed out, almost hesitantly.

"Perhaps. Did you ever hear tell the saying about witches? They have fire in their souls."

And the soul interested her very much.

"It pleases me when it is confused. Amusing, in a way."

Her breath is a plume of white, between them.

Jack's is a scattering of crystals.

"You cannot be other than you are." She accused, still suspicious, but her hands were moving steadily between them, closer to him. They followed the breath, a white bridge.

He watches her hands for a moment, then looks back up.

"Perhaps you want to kill her?" Her hand met it's target, gripping his chin harshly.

"Is that it?" The cold crept up her arm. Freezing, biting, blistering.

And he's suddenly lukewarm under her hands, and pale, because it takes an effort, and smiling.

"If I was trying, she would be dead."

"I can't help it. Perhaps I should have picked a more grotesque body" She mused, laughing and releasing his chin.

"You look better in white."

"I do not think your body has any bearing on the situation?"

Now he's back to confused, and still pale, and almost leaning on her.

She reaches up to cradle his head between her hands.

"You are tired." She placed a kiss on his forehead. "Poor little Snowdrop."

He laughs, and toys, for a moment, with the idea of biting her jaw.

"For me to be properly cold."

"I will stand it." She smirked against his skin.

"I did last time."

"Oh, but your precious host."

His hand traces her throat, and he smirks too, though it's hidden.

"We must care for her, musn't we?"

"She is horrendously fragile." Thea rolled her eyes, teeth dragging on her lower lip as his hand passed across her throat.

"Your human will be jealous."

"My human has another."

His touch on her throat lingers.

"I would not have credited you with imposing morality, Cruel Thing."

"I do not like to do what is expected." She leaned into his touch. This was unusual for her, with others she was rough. Like an animal, she recognized his superiority, craved it.

"Be careful, Snowdrop, ice is not the only thing that can bite."

"Oh, but you will not try."

He pulls back, stepping away, releasing her hair, her throat.

"And if you do... we have played this game before."

Thea placed her hands on her hips, huffily. Not willing to give him the satisfaction of complaining.

"Then lets play a new game, outside, in the snow."

He closes his eyes, considering.

"Or a race? A dance?"

"A dance!" She said, playing the lady. The duchess and the spoilt child all at once.

"I would so dearly love a dance."

"Then follow me to the lake."

And he's gone in a shatter of ice, and a flurry of crystals, and he's out by the lake (http://www.livejournal.com/users/_to_the_bone/1426.html).

And if she likes, she can follow.

And follow she did, laughing softly to herself.