Twisted

~1~

     "Are you sure?" He asks nervously. I nod my head and stare. He doesn't say anything back. But he holds his hands out. He shuts his eyes, then waits. After about five seconds of silence a crackling sound starts up. The noise comes from his hands, I stare wondering what's next. I'm mesmerized.

     I can even feel heat starting to form. It feels like I'm at a fire place in winter. just a special, warm and fuzzy feeling.

     For a second I think twice about having him do this.

     Something could easily go wrong.

     He's literally making a flame. Out of his hands! Honestly, I should be used to this by now. We've known this about each other since we made it three months of being together. I was a little nervous about showing him.

     Eventually he played around with his fire, and got me to open up to him.

     He's more than playing with fire, he is fire.

     I let out a slight laugh, but cut the rest off. I don't want to startle him, and have him swinging his arms all around. Setting this place ablaze. Hey, isn't there a song about that? I laugh again, but tell myself to stop.

     My Dad was right. I probably will end up killing someone. On purpose, or on accident. Someone is going to die because of how much of a klutz I am!

     The flame grows a bit. I find myself just lost in it. Staring at it. Enjoying it. Pleasuring the warmth from his hands. As long as he's around, I'll never truly be cold.

     I'm like a moth to a light right now.

     Attracted and helpless.

     The crackling stops, though his hands spark up. Ending in a flame coming from each of his palms. "That's - that's so cool." I can't help but smile. It's like a full on campfire.

     Soon the fire burns out, and reduces to a spark. He closes his hands, and opens his eyes back up.

     "Show me yours, now." He sits down, criss-crossed then puts his head on his hands.

     "Do I have to?"

     "I just showed you mine. Now yours." He smiles. He did it again. He makes this face, that convinces me to do anything he wants. He just smiles, flutters his eye lids over his ocean blue eyes. Even flips his blonde hair over his other eyebrow. "Hurry! Before my parents come."

     "Fine." I take my pitch black shades off, and turn the lights off. When I sit back down, I pull my long sleeves up to my shoulder. "I hope this makes you happy." I breathe in slowly. In and out. In and out. That feeling bubbles up inside of me again.

     Whenever I do this, I get a strange feeling. Not butterflies, more like mutated wasps. Maybe it's the fear that something could go wrong. I could end up burning to my death. You just never know.

     I feel my eyes begin to change. From my hazel cover-up, they turn into a bright purple. His face turns to shock and happiness. Not only have my eyes turned purple but so has the area around me. He backs up, still smiling wide.

     The first time this happened to me was when I was born. Though I don't remember much of it. Just a few faint pictures here and there.

     Someone blamed the lighting and the poor quality of the camera on my purple eyes in the picture. They never left though.

     I can remember when I was about seven. I was on my way to school one day -

     Phase two knocks my thoughts of track. My hands begin to shake rapidly. My breathe becomes warm and a dark purple. Phase three. The markings start to pop up. This time a dragon forms on my hand. It swirls for a bit, then heads up my arms, finally going to my neck. Other ones, like owls and pyramids show up. They glow purple too.