His eyes were like ice.
That was the first thing she noticed about him. He was light and she was dark, he was sharp as frigid crystals and she was as tenacious as molten fire. At first she found his differences intriguing, and as they say opposites are supposed to attract. She always enjoyed challenges, and she liked that he could keep up with her quick banter and wit. But there was nothing beneath the surface. He was a thin layer of ice with air under it, and even though she tried, she could not find a safe place to fall.
She had craved the cold. She had wondered what such a sensation would feel like, and it had been exhilirating with his cool hands caressing her burning skin. But she was born of fire. She breathed it, thrived in it. She needed the heat of another against her, one with a flame as strong as the one she carried inside. Someone that would ignite her and burn her down to ashes, only to make her rise again and again. His frozen touch would never be enough for her; he would never be enough.
If only she had realized that ice can burn you too.