A/N: Hey guys! I'm back with a more metaphorical chapter this time. Hope you like it!
He was ice. Cold and hard, a frozen unbreakable solid.
She was fire. Hot and crackling, a burning wave of flames.
They say fire can melt ice but this time his ice would put out her fire.
They clashed right away, she tired to thaw him out, make him melt and he just burned colder at the efforts. He didn't want to melt, he didn't want to lose the fortress that he had so decisively built up around him.
And with every try he stamped out a little of her flame. He didn't care. He needed it. He needed the ice. He was nothing without it.
He wished she would just stop trying. Stop coming back to "help" him. He didn't need it. But she didn't stop. Every day she burned bright and every day he resisted. Her flames grew smaller and smaller and then came the day he knew his ice was going to finally put her out.
But when he saw her, helpless yet defiant, flame small and flickering but as hot as ever, knowing she was losing, he stopped.
There she was knowing she would lose her fire, knowing she would lose everything if she continued and yet she was ready. Ready to try one more time.
And that small flickering flame, for the first time ever, began to thaw the frozen solid.
His ice didn't put out her fire that day. Or the next, or the next.
Her fire didn't melt his ice either, just warmed it up, softened it into something a bit more moldable.
He was ice. Cold yet soft, an unbreakable solid holding everything he loved.
She was fire, warm and pleasant, a cheerful wave of flames holding her burning love.
They made it work.
A/N: So what did you guys think? A little poetic, metaphorical little drabble with a sprinkling of compromise and healthy relationships because that's an important thing. And yeah I think there is some stuff to unpack but I'll leave it to you guys!
So please review! Let me know your thoughts!
And as always, thanks for reading!
See ya! :)