Work Text:
The Duke raged at his rage; despaired at his despair.
He was his own unwilling fortress, the surrounding moat foisted upon him. Now his very brick and mortar crumbled away.
Any man would have craved connection. But he mustn't. Couldn't risk the harm. That sheer terror.
She wasn't afraid. A flip of her skirt. A dangerous lean. Her heat a ruinous temptation.
"With my touch, you'll die," he snapped. "Leave, while you breathe."
Alice's cerulean eyes never wavered.
"You'll die," he threatened. Begged.
She was far too close.
"If I do," she whispered, "at least I will be with you."