Like all the other innocent civilians waiting for him to breath an ungodly big flame out of his mouth, she was sitting there, him not really understanding what her expressions meant. She looked so bored but from the angle he was standing at (or maybe that was just him?) he could see how her eyes mixed the emotions of worry and anticipation as he lifted a bottle of gasoline from the ground.

He pulled the bottle rim close to his mouth and tilted it, pouring a generous amount of the poisoning liquid. With a glance at her, he could (almost) sense that she was praying and hoping his life wouldn’t be cut short because of the toxin that he was nearly gulping down his throat.

Fire transferred from his mouth to a thick stick and the audience applauded as he bowed, very proud of his work. He thought he saw her sigh with relief and eventually joined in the applause (and he just realized that he was paying attention to her too much to even notice everything she did). After the presentation, he walked over.

“Enjoying the show?”

A smirk was plastered over his beautiful face, him towering over her (even though she was already standing up).

“Not really. I don’t like fire that much. I like things that freeze, not burn,”

Okay, so maybe she was an Ice Princess. Opposites attract anyway.