Hate Me, Desire Me
Genesis pressed her mittened hands against the ice, peering down as though she expected to find treasure beneath.
"It's like glass," she whispered, awe softening her voice. I stood behind her, watching her reflection in the ice. My own reflection lingered faintly beside hers, softened by the frost. The woman looking back at me seemed different, less guarded, almost gentle. I wondered if Elijah would notice the difference too, if he saw me like this.
I shook the thought away quickly, pulling Genesis back a few steps for safety. "Careful. The ice is slippery." She pouted but nodded, clinging to my coat.
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