Prologue

He swallows, intertwining our fingers together; my grip feeling as fragile as an injured bird in his, but safe at the same time. He levels our gazes so that we could be seeing eye-to-eye. But afraid of what I'll glimpse if I look too close, I focus rebelliously on the licks of flame that frame his features.

“Zora”, my name dances on his tongue, “Look at me.