And the Birds Sing No More - Burlesque Romantique
Flames danced to life beneath the black coils atop the stove, and Lovino stands there and watches as tiny tendrils of smoke curl up from a previous spill on the burner. A slight violet tinge appears, nestled there in the black rings, and then the element assumes some reddish-purple tones, like unripe blackberries. It shifts from a burning sunset orange until, finally, settling on an intense, heated red. He stares distantly, a tea kettle snug in his grip, as he vaguely recalls...
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