She liked his abuse. The way he gripped her so tightly it left bruises sent a shiver of odd pleasure through her. She didn't care that he was slowly killing her. She couldn't care less about that. As long as he was there, she'd be happy.
She loved how his flames felt on her skin, burning yet cooling at the same time.
She loved seeing such a strong emotion on his face.
And, above everything, she loved him.
So she'd take being beaten to near-death and shoved in the dirt.
Because she liked it.
And she knew he didn't mean it.
A/N: I wrote this four months ago… Mehff.