Where Flames Meet

The only thing I could ever remember from that conversation was: where the two flames meet, that's the hottest point. It seems odd now, thinking about it. Robin had been standing there going on and on about certain chemistry experiments and their importance, all because I asked what he was doing. About two minutes into his lecture I tuned him out, as always. But I managed to come up for air when he was mentioning the Bunsen burner, and I heard:

"Where the two blue flames meet, that's the hottest point. See?" He carefully pointed out the delicate shapes of two flames.

It was beautiful. The little flame hid inside the other; cocooned by it. And in there was the hottest point. The most powerful part of that flame was where the two joined together. I didn't know what to say as I watched the little flames burn, he seemed unaware that I was fascinated by them. I remember mumbling something to the effect of: "Oh, that's interesting." In my head though, my thoughts were swirling around in a vibrant storm.

Two flames burning together.

Two hearts? Can they burn as one?

Can one heart cocoon the other and love it? Can the other be loved?

My gaze drifted upward and watched as he explained certain DNA tests. I didn't care. Cyborg might care, even Starfire might hold some interest (she was, after all, quite smart), but I had no fascination what-so-ever. At least, not in DNA testing. I was fascinated by the fact that I could see his hands. His normal gloves were too bulky for such delicate experiments, and so he had to remove them. But his hands were beautiful; calloused and scarred. And on the wrist of his right hand, there sat a small tattoo of the words "Flying Greysons" a silent testament to his family. His hands were magnificent to me; they looked like the hands of an artist.

Two hands?

Can one hold the other and love it?

Can they become warm and hold each other?

He smiled at me. It was that quirky smile I'd gotten so used to. He knew he was boring me, but he wasn't sure if he should stop what he was doing or not. He looked away, trying to find the clock, but I saw his beautiful lips. They were soft, and sometimes confusing, like when he rattled off words I could never dream of knowing in my life. But they were his, and they fascinated me.

Two mouths?

Can one kiss the other and cherish it?

Can they love one another? Forever?

He looked back at me and turned off the Bunsen burner. He knew the confusion in my eyes; the worry. He worked far too hard most of the time, and I often wondered if it was bad for him. He reached out and grabbed my hand softly, holding it carefully.

"I know what you're thinking, Raven…" His mouth kissed my, loving it passionately. "We are the two flames…" His hands tilted my eyes to meet his own. "And where we touch…" He caressed my womanly curves, making me blush deeply. "Is the hottest part of the flame…"

Two hearts. Holding. Loving. Passionate.

Where the two flames meet is the hottest point.

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AN: Nothing more than a bunch of fluff to pass the time. Enjoy.