Chapter 25: Heat Against Frost
The city groaned in the distance.
Sirens wailed like dying gods.
But in the apartment, there was only breath—
And fire.
—
Selene had fallen asleep beside her.
Not in a bed, not comfortably—just sitting up, spine against the warped bed frame, her chin tilted down, and one hand still brushing against Aria's forearm.
She hadn't meant to stay that close. She hadn't meant to fall asleep at all. But some part of her—the part she thought she'd buried beneath frost and silence—refused to let go.
She should've moved. Should've distanced herself again.
But Aria needed her.
And maybe—just maybe—Selene needed that too.
She had been the keeper of winter since before the world ended.
She had survived the collapse of cities and systems and faith.
But now, here in the wreckage of everything, it wasn't frost that clung to her—it was the warmth of a fevered girl whose breath sounded like a lullaby unraveling at the edge of life.
—
A soft sound stirred her.
A sigh. A breath.
Then—her name. Barely a whisper.
Selene blinked herself awake, heart thrumming.
Aria was staring at her, eyes glassy with fever, pupils wide and trembling. Her skin was flushed with unnatural heat, as though she'd been touched by some god of fire and left smoldering in its wake.
"Selene…" Aria breathed, voice cracked like dried petals, soft as soot. "You're cold."
A hand rose—unsteady, trembling—and brushed against Selene's cheek.
The contact was startling.
It didn't burn, not exactly.
But it ached. Somewhere deep inside.
"I feel like I'm burning," Aria said again, eyes heavy with heat, "and it hurts."
Selene opened her mouth, tried to find something rational, something clinical to say—
but then Aria leaned forward and kissed her.
—
It was nothing at first.
A gentle brush of lips. A fevered plea. A cry for help.
But it ignited something in Selene—something she had long since buried beneath layers of distance and ice.
"Aria…" she rasped, leaning back just an inch, her pulse wild. "You don't know what you're doing."
But Aria didn't stop.
Didn't hesitate.
Her hands—trembling, burning—slipped behind Selene's neck and pulled her forward.
"Don't go," she whispered.
"You feel like snow."
—
Selene's restraint cracked.
Because gods, she'd waited so long.
Loved her too deeply in silence.
Watched her break and rebuild a hundred times.
And now, in the flickering light of this dying city, Aria wanted her—maybe not in the way she understood—but in the only way that mattered.
Selene kissed her back.
Not softly.
Not like she should have.
—
Their bodies pressed together, fire and frost colliding in a quiet war of opposites. Selene's cold magic curled beneath her skin, instinctively rising to meet Aria's overwhelming heat.
She caught Aria's waist, pulling her closer, grounding her, while her other hand found the nape of Aria's neck—cradling, steadying, trembling ever so slightly.
Their mouths met again, deeper this time, and Selene tasted something ancient.
Something sacred.
Longing and ruin.
Hope and fear.
A desperate ache that had waited two years to be named.
Aria's moan was quiet, almost swallowed by the shadows, but it shattered Selene.
She wasn't sure what she was doing.
She only knew she couldn't stop.
—
The kiss broke, breathless.
Selene rested her forehead against Aria's, her chest rising and falling too quickly.
"I shouldn't have—"
But the apology died on her tongue.
Because Aria was holding her like a lifeline.
Her arms clung to Selene's shirt, her lips brushed her throat, her whole body curled toward the only cold she could find.
"Stay," she whispered, half-asleep, half-burning. "Please… don't leave me."
—
Selene stayed.
The room fell into a hush, broken only by the soft, rhythmic sound of breathing.
Outside, the world burned, but inside, something quieter had taken root.
She didn't move—not for hours.
Aria's fever began to break slowly, melting beneath Selene's touch. Her magic—volatile and uncontrollable—seemed to recognize Selene now, not as an enemy but as balance.
Moonlight painted silver ribbons on the floor, and Selene's mind wandered.
She knew this wasn't love.
Not yet.
Not in the way it used to be.
But it was something.
Something sharp. Something alive.
A seed, perhaps—planted in ash.
She tightened her arms around Aria and exhaled slowly, burying her face into the tangle of dark hair against her neck. She had forgotten what it felt like to be needed. To be the one someone reached for in the dark.
And gods help her, she didn't want to let go.
—
Whatever this was, whatever it became—Selene wouldn't fight it.
Not anymore.
She would walk into Aria's fire, bare and unguarded,
and she would bring her winter with her.
Because for the first time in years, she wasn't afraid to burn.
And she wouldn't let Aria burn alone.