I Always Like To Play With Fire Mga Nobela at Kwento

I muttered. One of my guys asked, “You gonna let that go?” I shook my head slowly, resisting the urge to laugh. Everyone would think I'd gone mad which is true. Id gone mad, but it wasn't that type of madness. This was different. She was fire and she was the reason for my madness. And I’d never walked away from fire. “She wants to play games,” I said under my breath, mostly to myself. “Fine. Let’s play.”

Our fire. A true goddess.

UNKNOWN POV Stalking had become my favorite plaything—better than touching myself. Nah, not sure this is better than... God, you’re such a fucking bitch!" I laughed at myself, almost giddy at my own antics. Still, the laughter couldn’t drown out the truth eating me alive. Ever since I found out that the cops didn’t suspect the fire was an accident, I’ve been restless—not exactly worried, but afraid my plans might be destroyed before they even come into bloom.

A. “The fire is just the smallest of what I can do. It is the tip of the iceberg. You don't get to tell me what to do. You don't get to meet me, either. I call the fucking shots, and you'll watch your entire life burn to ground if you dare to play smart.”

Things that otherwise shouldn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Things that are supposed to be irrelevant. The problem is I don’t think I want to stop. Worse, I don’t think I can. I’ve always loved playing with fire as a child. It’s dangerous and it hurts when you get burned, but it also sends a thrill through me. Makes me feel alive. Being around Julian is exactly like that. The traffic light turns green and I drive forward in silence while Julian continues playing with his phone beside me. Neither of us has mentioned what happened last night.

I know I'm playing with fire, but for some reason, something in me-something reckless, and aching-wants to see him aching, to see him burn. Fuck.

he growled in menace. I knew I was playing with fire and I will get burned if his control snapped but I didn’t care not at this moment at least. A/N: Please leave comments and reviews. Thanks for reading.

“What happened the first time you caught fire?” Looking straight ahead, I said, “I don’t want to talk about it.” “I’m asking because I want to figure out what your triggers are,” he clarified. “Fear,” I responded, still not looking at him. “I suppose that’s a start. How many times have you caught fire?” “Four.” Maybe if I were short with my answers, he would stop asking. He sighed. “Then you are just starting to set into your immortality. What do you know about fighting?”

"It's not nice to touch a fire on purpose. In case you don't know, I'm a fire that shouldn't be played around with." "In case you don't know…" As if I had been expecting him to say that, my words came out straight and sharp. I glowered. "I'm a more dangerous fire. The thing used to quench a fire is water. That means, if you aren't careful, you'll make the fire in us light up. Just tell the Media the truth, and I promise to never set my eyes on you." "I still won't do it. Leave, or I ask my men to take you away," he menaced even harder.

A woman stepped beside me, tapping gently on my shoulder, her presence felt as cold as the night air. "Well done," she whispered smoothly, watching the flames dance in the dark as she turned to look at my smiling face. "Can you see that you enjoy watching fire just like I do? And that makes you a fucking pyromaniac."