Warm, you are so warm.
How is it that you are my opposite if I am warm too? Or am I cold?
"Luna, am I cold?"
You stare at me with those eyes. They question. Your lips answer, "Why does it make a difference?" Can you read my mind?
"Just thinking about something." And then you're kissing me and I do feel cold, and it feels wrong, feeling cold but I can't stop it because you're my opposite, my warmth.
Suddenly, I never want to be warm again.
