Fight all Night for Love.

Now in Neon!

~We were both curled up on the covers like kittens, a slight shuffle of skin and smiles every now and then. The plasma pipes in the corner were humming a little fairy's tone, with peals of raw blue vapor steaming out the sides and condensing into crude cobalt scales along the marbled copper surface. They're always so active at night, groaning like a holy choir. Night. Night, when the butterfly film on the window soaks in the violet night air. Night. Night turned the velvety mahogany walls that boxed us in this pentagonal penthouse roost to blazing parapets whenever the heating system sent that wicked liquid fire surging through like blood. It was baking in here, plasma plumes bursting into flames as we snuggles, like kittens.~

     "Would you fight for me?" she said, with burning apathy. "Would you fight a thousand men for me?" she said, with blazing nonchalance. "A thousand men, armed to the teeth?" She rolled over on her back and reached to the varnished mahogany ceiling, stretching her fingers as far as they would go. "Armed to the teeth with a thousand bullets each?"
     "That's a million bullets. A million holes right through me." Simba looked her dead center in the face, gazing at her pupils without looking her in the eyes. "I'm not sure I would fight a thousand men. I'm not sure I even have a reason." He snapped his head towards the ceiling, closed his eyes, and feigned sleep.
     "I'm the reason." No reply.
 "You wouldn't fight a thousand men for me? Simba, I'm disappointed." Her tone grew motherly. "Simba Fenice Endriago; lion-hearted, dragon-blooded. Mr. Endriago, ascetic of the arcane art of the heart.  'Io sono un uomo nato di nuovo dagli errori di un migliaio di uomini, come se le ceneri di una fenice grande.' Those were the words you spoke to me when you tried to 'court' me, in that funny little broken accent you have. Now you've grown complacent, a weaker man than once before. A thousand men should be nothing compared to the embers within you, blazing bright!"
     "Why are you stressing this? Do I need to fight a thousand men?"
"Yes, you do. To regain the courage and spirit you once carried."
     "Once? Where'd it all go?"
"Out the window, out of time."

He tossed himself over and wrapped the covers like a cocoon, avoiding her eyes.  "I'm not a fighter. I'm a lover."
"Alright, then show me some love."
     "Now? I don't feel like it right now."
"Then fight."

He rolled back around and took her under with him, into a skein of silk and sheets.

The End

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