Blake stared out at the night sky. Rain droplets trailed down the glass. He could feel Kira's eyes on him, almost in a passionate way. Then, she quietly crossed the room to him. The dancefloor below them was too noisy and energetic for someone to be spying on them from the stairs this time. Kira leaned against the window on her side, her hazel eyes now tempting Blake to stare back into them.
"You know, my parents took me on vacation to Paris in the summer when I was fourteen. One night, the air was really warm and it rained exactly like this, making me feel, sort of in love with the world. It was just so, soothing, I guess. With the all the lights, and the way the streets gleamed in the rain. I wish you could have seen it. You would have loved it, even though there was no purple lightning," Blake murmured, his eyes far away.
"Really?" Kira whispered, leaning closer to Blake. He could now smell that sweet, clean body mist coming off her neck. She slowly wrapped her small hands around his arms. She turned him, his back to the glass now. Kira continued her hands up his arms, until they locked around his neck. Blake finally met her gaze. Her eyes trapped his; he could see that she past the whole brotherly love thing. He could see that she wanted him, needed him. She had to be the only girl he loved. His heart soared; Kira loved him the same way he loved her.
He lifted his hand and stroked her long, copper hair.
"Lightning is pretty hard to compete with, especially if it's purple," Kira purred. Yet