Hiding it under her bed, she carefully woke up before Paul the next morning. He was biting her neck again, bringing that wonderful burning feeling--no... She would not let this evil live.She touched the cross to Paul's forehead, and he burst into flame. Fortunately, none of her stuff seemed to be damaged. It was over surprisingly quickly. He didn't even leave any ashes behind. It was kind of boring, actually. She'd expected to have him scream or, or almost burn down the house, or age before her. ‘But what? What is it that you imagine I owe you?’ She cannot speak. If she opens her mouth, she knows she will break down, so she bites her lip and holds his eyes with hers, her shoulders set defiantly. She will not leave. To leave would mean losing him forever, and she is not willing to let that happen. The facade of coldness fractures and he raises his voice again. ‘Leave me alone, woman! I will strike you. I do not want to, but you leave me little choice.’ She lifts her chin but does not. More

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