POV: Chase
The kiss deepens despite the lightning, despite the storm, despite every rational reason to stop touching Vivian when touching her triggers worse curse manifestations. But rationality stopped governing my choices the moment she walked into that cathedral, the moment she objected, the moment she chose to be here instead of safe in Paris.
Her hands find my hair, pulling me closer, and I'm lifting her against the church wall the way I did in her apartment before the curse made me destroy lamps instead of her. Except this time there's no stopping, no pulling back, no moment where one of us chooses safety over consumption.
This time we just consume each other. Desperate and violent and real, rain streaming between us, thunder overhead, the world reduced to just this: her mouth on mine, her body against me, the electric current that's always existed between us amplified by storm and curse and months of fighting what we both want.
"This is insane," she manages between kisses.
