Board Thread:Off-Topic/@comment-27509141-20160610232114/@comment-27191468-20160802010859

Btw, before I continue, sorry for mispelling Mistral. And this is'nt cannon to the story, i'm working on my Romance

Arsonist didn't have a date to the dance, he got jealous, even Renegade had one!

But he had to try to ask Vulca, her high cheekbones, her red eyes, her lush in her hair, Arsonist felt dirty for having this lust

But he asked.

"Uhm, hey Vulca..." his voice jittery with anxiety, "You wa-ant to go t-to the dance?"

Vulcas cheeks rushed with blood, blushing a fire red. She couldn't speak.

Arsonist got underwhelmed, he shook his head at the mere thought of an affirmative.

"Ok, I wasted enough of your time. I'll get goin-"

...

Vulca cut him of.

"Of course." Her voice very hoarse.

Arsonist's whole nazal area got deep red, these emotions, so weird- where did they?

'No', Arsonist thought, 'I shouldn't question this at all!'

The feeling he felt, crawling up his esophagus, a feeling like a spider trying to srawl toxins everywhere!

He, liked it, caressingly stroking Vulca's cheeks. He, right then and there,

Bursted into tears...