The flames climbed through the tenement, clinging to the beams like erotic dancers. The hallways, the windows, the doorways and roof, all stages for a sultry performance: a blazing burlesque. Feathered skirts flashed as the wallpaper peeled and swooned. The building groaned with pleasure. Every inch glowed with passionate warmth, submerged in sheets of dark, furtive smog.
Under the charcoal covers, the flames caressed the walls and kissed the roof. The structure held its breath until the windows blew out, releasing a gasp. Burning desire pulled at the flames, drawing them in 'til the roof collapsed. The conflagration sank its nails deep into the back of the tenement, ripping into the flesh.
This was true feeling.
Lynns gazed up at his smouldering Juliet, watching as the balcony was overcome. It was art, and music, and life in its purest form. It was perfection.
It was all he could do to resist running into those ever-open arms, to feel the warm embrace of love itself. He licked his lips. Sweat trickled down his cheek, and he swallowed hard. There were faces within the flames, calling to him.
The voices were muffled, drowned out by the crackle and pop of convulsing flame. Garfield closed his eyes. It was the only way he could break the spell, the siren's call luring him toward the light. Beneath the suit, his skin was charred black, eight per cent of his body withered in an all-consuming passion. Fire was a succubus.
He opened his eyes and gasped at the beauty. It never seemed to dull. Even the smallest fire, the waste paper set alight, the embers of a cigarette, the spark of flint, anything; there was always an allure. A burning desire.
Turning away, Firefly sighed. He hated to turn his back on his one true love, but soon the other man would arrive. The Batman always came between them. Never a moment alone, never time to revel in their sweet romance.
Once again, their passion would be drowned in the sorrowful tears of Gotham. This pit of misery, ever shrouded in mist, darkened by shadows. Shadows like the Dark Knight.
The Joker may have been a psychopath, but there was one point on which he and Lynns agreed. Gotham needed to lighten up. And Lynns knew just how to do it. Soon, the walls would tumble and the city's heart would burst with affection.
And Lynns would be its Cupid.