falling
.
He shouldn't. He really shouldn't look at her that way. His heart can't beat that fast, his skin can't burn that red, and he certainly can't have his tongue that tied whenever he mentions her name.
But he does. His pulse races when he dreams of her - dream dreams of her, of lips pressed against flesh, of heat rising that burns off layers of clothing even though she's a snow goddess and is cold as ice but he suspends his disbelief because he aches, he trembles, he longs with every particle in his body for it to be real, to be possible -
He's falling for her. And oh gods, how he falls.
.