Chapter 25: Heat Against Frost
The city groaned in the distance, a low, grinding sound like metal dragged across concrete. Sirens howled through the broken skyline, rising and falling like the dying cries of forgotten gods. Somewhere far off, something collapsed — maybe a building, maybe someone's last hope. But in the ruined apartment, in the breathless hush between shattered walls and dust - covered memories, there was only warmth.
And fire.
Selene didn't remember falling asleep. One moment she was watching Aria twist beneath the fever - drenched sheets, her skin burning with something unnatural, and the next, her body was still, spine aching from the warped metal frame, chin dipped to her chest. Her hand had stayed where it was — grazing Aria's forearm, close but not quite holding. As if her body knew what her mind refused to admit.
She'd meant to keep her distance. Meant to protect the cold shell she'd built around herself, the armor of silence and frost that had shielded her long before the Fall. But Aria… Aria didn't respect barriers. Not even the ones Selene had carved into herself with years of loss.
She should have moved. Should have shifted away the moment sleep threatened to make her soft. But instead, she had stayed — curled just close enough to feel the heat radiating from Aria's fragile form. And now, in the half - light of a ruined dawn, her breath caught.
A soft sound stirred her. Not the wail of sirens, not the thunder of collapse. A sigh. A breath. Then her name — barely more than a ghost.
"Selene…"
Selene's eyes flew open. Her pulse spiked, her body snapping upright in a flash of disoriented panic. Aria was staring up at her. Wide, glassy pale grey eyes, pupils dilated and trembling, her skin flushed a terrifying shade of red. The fever hadn't broken. If anything, it had worsened, blistering beneath the surface like a god's curse.
"You're cold," Aria whispered, her voice cracked, fragile. She reached out — just barely — and her fingers brushed Selene's cheek. The touch was tentative. Fevered. Too hot.
Selene flinched, not from pain, but from the intimacy of it. From the way Aria looked at her like she was something soft. Something safe.
"I feel like I'm burning," Aria murmured, her brow furrowed with pain. "And it hurts."
Selene wanted to say something — anything logical, measured, useful. But her mouth stayed open, no sound coming. Because how do you comfort someone whose magic might consume her from the inside out?
Then, without warning, Aria leaned forward.
And kissed her.
It wasn't deep. It wasn't careful. It wasn't even entirely conscious. It was the kind of kiss that came from instinct — like clutching a match in the dark. Aria's lips were dry, fever - hot, her breath shallow against Selene's mouth.
Selene froze.
It should have ended there. Should have been dismissed as fever delirium. But Aria didn't stop. Her trembling hand slipped behind Selene's neck, fingers threading through tangled silver — blonde hair, pulling her closer.
"Don't go," she whispered, voice thick with exhaustion. "You feel like snow."
Selene's resolve cracked.
Because gods, she'd waited too long.
Years of silence. Of watching Aria light up ruined streets with fire she couldn't control. Of pretending she didn't care when Aria smiled at someone else. Of waking in the middle of the night with her name on Selene's tongue.
And now, here — here, where everything else had already crumbled — Aria wanted her.
Not for forever.
Not for certainty.
But for now.
Selene kissed her back.
It wasn't gentle.
Their mouths collided again, a desperate press of fire against frost. Selene's magic stirred reflexively, a cold wind rising beneath her skin, answering the heat pouring off Aria's body like a storm. It wasn't just chemistry. It was catastrophe.
Her arms wrapped around Aria instinctively, one hand catching her waist, the other cradling the base of her skull. Aria leaned into her, her hands clumsy, frantic, grasping at Selene's shirt like she could anchor herself with fabric alone.
The kiss deepened. Gasped, shattered. It wasn't elegant. It wasn't careful. It was real. Painful, even. A collision of everything they were — too much, too fast, too late.
Selene tasted ash on her lips. Fire. Longing. The echo of something sacred and broken.
Aria moaned softly into her mouth, and the sound undid her.
Selene pulled back, just far enough to breathe, their foreheads pressed together. Her chest rose and fell too quickly. Her hands trembled where they touched Aria's skin.
"I shouldn't have —" she began, voice hoarse.
But Aria clung to her tighter.
"Don't stop," she whispered, and it wasn't a plea — it was a truth. "I feel like I'm dying."
"You're not," Selene murmured, brushing damp hair back from her burning face. "You're still here."
"Only because of you."
The words landed with a weight Selene couldn't carry.
She wanted to say it wasn't true. That Aria was stronger than that. That Selene wasn't her salvation, just a girl too cold to feel things properly. But Aria's breath warmed her collarbone, and the way she held her — like Selene was the last safe place in a ruined world — made it impossible to lie.
So she didn't.
Selene didn't move. Didn't pull away. She stayed.
The world outside continued to bleed. Distant explosions echoed like a fading heartbeat, and the sky beyond the shattered windows still glowed with sickly, chemical light. But inside — here, in the space carved by their bodies — there was only breath.
And fire.
Time blurred. Aria's fever began to soften, curling inward beneath Selene's magic. It didn't vanish — Selene wasn't arrogant enough to believe she could cure her — but it calmed. Eased. The wildfire became a hearth.
They lay tangled together, limbs entwined, hearts pounding in a rhythm that wasn't quite in sync but close enough. Aria's breath was steadier now. Selene could feel it against her collarbone, warm and rhythmic.
"You're real," Aria mumbled, almost asleep. "I keep thinking you're not."
"I'm real," Selene whispered back.
"You feel like a dream."
Selene laughed softly — a brittle, broken thing. "I've been called worse."
Aria shifted, pressing her forehead to Selene's neck. "You're freezing."
"I know."
"It doesn't hurt anymore."
Selene didn't answer. She just held her tighter.
There were no promises exchanged. No declarations of love. They weren't there yet. Maybe they never would be.
But something had changed. Not with the kiss. Not even with the touch.
With the staying.
Selene didn't stay for anyone. She had watched people die with a blade in her hand and frost in her lungs. She'd walked away from makeshift families, lovers, comrades, leaders. She didn't tether herself to warmth because warmth meant loss.
But Aria had changed that. Had melted her.
Had made her want again.
As the sky outside softened into a bruised dawn, Selene closed her eyes and buried her face in the curve of Aria's neck. She smelled like smoke and magic and something green — something that didn't belong in a dead city.
And Selene wasn't afraid anymore.
Not of the fire. Not of the kiss.
Not even of the hope blooming, slowly, painfully, in the place where her frost had once reigned supreme.
She would stay.
Because this time, when the world ended, she wouldn't let Aria go with it.
She would walk into her fire — bare and unguarded — and she would bring her winter with her.
Because together, maybe they could make something that survived.
Something dangerous.
Something beautiful.
Something alive.