I didn’t think I would ever get used to Seren’s touch.  A guiding hand on my back, grasping my wrist, hushing me.  With every touch, his frozen skin against mine made us both grimace in pain.  He was too cold – I was too hot.  We avoided each other.

I woke up gasping, the air in my lungs setting them on fire, my skin crawling.  He was there instantly, wrapping himself around me.  Hot and cold seared us both.  I don’t remember who screamed.  Maybe we both did.

Since my Change, he’s the only person who can touch me without shivering.

--

I basically learn something new about these two every time I write with them.

When Cold came up, it had to be Serenity.  But I ended up writing this from Amber's point of view, not mine as I'd originally anticipated.

The idea that his temperature is not a trait unique to himself, but one related to his condition as a Starlit, had not occurred to me.

I struggled with the final sentence for quite some time, and ended up cutting details from the rest of the piece in order to have enough words left to say it like that.  I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out, because you can fill in all the gaps and get an idea of what's going on through just that short comment.  There are no details in it, but within the context you know exactly what she means.
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