It was in their eyes.

Cristina wasn't one to wax poetic. She was prone to action and not to mulling over sentiment. But their eyes haunted her as she tried, in vain, to fall asleep.

Both pairs were blue. Vividly so - make no mistake. Owen's eyes pleaded - his irises like the icy surface of a lake under a pale winter sky. But despite the fragile metaphor, Owen was anything but. His gaze was always level. Cool. Steady. Almost dull. Like he was an aged glacier - one that had stood unshaken for a millennium. One that had endured fire and water. One that clung steadily to its ideals.

One that held expectations Cristina couldn't meet. One that tried to craft her into something akin to himself. So the could fit together better.

Instead, it had ended something like a collision. Like Cristina was a meteor hurtling towards to earth, bracing for impact. It still hurt every bit the way she thought it would. Yet, while Cristina's supposedly rough, rocky exterior was shattered in an instant -

Owen's frozen lake remained untouched.

But Jackson - his were nothing like Owen's. They were blue, to be sure - a striking shade of aquamarine. But Cristina found she couldn't even begin to compare his eyes to the lake. Instead, behind his eyes burned a cool, blue fire. He was all intensity and passion.

Hot. Flickering. Bright.

Cristina vaguely recalled a line from one of those movies Izzie used to make them watch when she was still around.

Like a moth to a flame.

She the moth. He the flame.

She chortled a little when she realised she had compared herself to an insect.

"What?" A voice startled her out of her thoughts.

Flicking her eyes upwards, she met his blazing blue gaze.

Cristina swallowed the soft breath that threatened to escape. She wasn't a sap.

"What?" She repeated back. Her voice was nonchalant and steady and sure. It betrayed nothing of her thumping heart as she tried to skirt the question a little longer.

The elephant in the room.

"Why?" He repeated. His voice carried no urgency. No pressure. Only curiosity.

Cristina suddenly felt that it wasn't as hard to say as she thought it would be.

"Owen cheated."

The tightening of his jaw was imperceptible but she caught it out of the corner of her eye. Still, he betrayed no surprise.

"I'm sor - "

"I don't need your pity." Cristina cut in. There was no bite. Just resignation. Like she was worn out.

He was quiet for a moment.

"I was going to say - I hope he finds out about us," Avery said. His blue stare never wavered. Cristina felt pinned. Like she couldn't move beneath his gaze without giving away something deeply personal.

Cristina's grin was wider. "He might go all caveman on you."

Suddenly, the bed dipped in the middle as he shifted. Cristina glanced up to find him hovering over her. His lips were but a hair's breadth away. He stared down at her - resisting the ridiculous pull of the magnetism that was her. In all her guarded vulnerability. Her brash dirty play. Her unashamed vindication.

Jackson wondered if he was a fool. Letting her sweep him up in her wiles like that - if one would even call them wiles.

Cristina was straightforwardly Cristina. She didn't skip around and play games. She knew what she wanted and went for it.

And Jackson wanted to be what she wanted. Tonight - he had been. Even if it was just to get back at Hunt. Jackson wanted to be it.

"I can take it." He murmured. It was soft and almost went unheard. But Jackson knew from his quiet declaration - there was no going back. He tenderly traced her face from her temple to her jawline.

He knew she had heard him.

Cristinas eyes remained blank. Like her mind was in auto-pilot as she slowly came to understand what he meant.

"Prove it."

Behind her eyes, there lit a fire that had been smothered since her gaze first met Owen's steady, piercing blue irises.

Jackson recognised it as her and for a second he let his breath be taken away. He'd missed her.

"Okay."

And when he kissed her, before she let her eyes flutter shut, Cristina took a mental snapshot of the way his eyes danced, fuelled by fire.

Intense.

Scorching.

Challenging.

Sincere.

It's in the eyes. She thought to herself absently as her eyelids slid shut.

She used to drown in Owen's frigid waters.

But tonight, Cristina was lit aflame by Jackson's all-consuming fire