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myself pretty. Not that it mattered, really, we both knew what we were meeting for. Eyeliner and red lipstick wasn't going to change that one way or the other, but the act of it soothed me. I was putting on my mask for the world, for him. Really, I was putting it on for myself. I was hiding from what I was doing. I didn't remember the last time I'd worn so much make-up, and it was wonderful.  
    The journey went by in a blur, my mind sharp and focused on the witch's smile. We went through the shop in a haze of intense kisses that burnt down my neck while his hands explored my body. His muscles were taut beneath my fingers, his skin smooth and soft. We made it to the hallway before I made short work of his shirt, discarding it on the wooden floor. The need built within me, kisses turns to bites, I clawed down his firm back while he threw my skirt on the stairs beneath us. Fire burnt up through my core, pleasure filled my mind, and everything else faded to nothing.  

Eleven

    I woke up tangled in the witch’s arms and sheets; an unfamiliar warmth and relaxation had spread throughout my body. I rested my head on his broad chest and listened to his steady heartbeat and breathing before he stirred, his hand slowly running down my back. I wriggled against him , wondering what my chances were of a repeat performance. His scent of warm bread and clary sage filled my nostrils , and the spell was broken . I wanted the scent of hot metal and petrichor. He must have sensed the change in me; his arms pulled back from me , leaving the cool air to lick at my exposed skin.  
    His thumb ran along my bottom lip, his eyes slightly dulled. “You really love him , don’t you?”
    I tilted my head and frowned , trying to figure out whom he meant. His smile came so easily.  
    “The witch is originally from Iceland, she comes from an ancient bloodline with more power than I’ve heard of from anywhere else. She’s cut-throat, cold, and there’s a rumour that she’s turned from the crone.”  
    Seemingly satisfied , he wrapped his hand around the back of my head and pulled me into a deep kiss; my body leant into him while my mind wandered. We got dressed with only mild embarrassment and discomfort . I did my best to tidy up the mess that had once been my beautiful mask of make-up before we left with a light hug. I told myself that I didn’t regret it, that I felt better for the entire experience. Admittedly , my body felt looser and my mind clearer; unfortunately , my mind wanted only one thing.  
    The sun had long since risen and the air was crisp and fresh. The cool breeze tickled my face and tugged at my hair , adding further tangles and knots. I thrust my hands into my pockets and wished away the thoughts of Lysander, yet they only came harder and firmer. A burning sensation bloomed in my chest and slowly swept outwards, tingling down my arms until I felt as though I were on fire. The people around me were bundled up in thick coats and tall boots, yet I had to strip down to my thin shirt and skirt. I couldn’t bear it. The heat prickled my skin. Imaginary flames crawled up my spine, my breath became shorter and more difficult. My vision blurred around the edges. Thoughts slowed to a sedentary pace. There was nothing but the feeling of burning, of becoming nothing more than fire.  
    My heart thundered in my ears. Strong arms wrapped around me and pulled me to a firm chest, the familiar scent of hot metal and petrichor surrounded me. My muscles relaxed and air flooded my lungs. Thoughts re-emerged. Lysander’s breath trickled down my neck as he whispered soothing words with no meaning past the sensation of safety. I pressed tighter to him willing away the tears and the fear.  
    Once I’d calmed , he wrapped me back up in my coat and guided me onto the next tram home, his arm remaining around my waist keeping me close. I curled up and leaned on him , taking sanctuary in his presence. I had no idea what had happened, what was