Fire
She was fire and he noted duly that he wanted it, staring at her figure. That he wanted her. Like a Moth attracted to the burning flames, he couldn't stay away from her. She hurt him whenever he would touch her, with every caress and loving hold, she would burn his flesh and he'd cry out in pain, but he couldn't let go. He wanted her.
Although the fire was hot- very much so -so was the tender feeling in his heart that she gave him. He wanted to stay by her side, feel her radiance and absorb it, even if it hurt him. Even if it was dangerous, and unhealthy, he wanted her.
He'd been tested, and it always ended the same. He'd come running back, he'd come back to the flames so he could be lighted. It was like a drug, it made him feel alive and it was killing him at the same time. It was drowning him and it was making him want to fly. He wanted her.
Standing above her, her eyes trained on him and his meeting hers, spying the liquid flames, he reflected on all of it. He looked down at her, and he could feel the want, the desire stirring in his loins. Leave or go? 'If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen,', that was the saying, but he loved that he couldn't stand it. He wanted her.
He loved that every time he was with her she endangered him. He loved that his life was close to being ended every single time that they touched. It excited him. He wanted her.