Roaring Fire (2)

There was an unending smell in the air. It forced itself way deep into his nostrils and possibly into hers.

It was sharp. Pungent. It was…

“Fuel…?” As the tires of the car rolled over the graveled road, past the towering building and under the moon's lights, Tony, helpless to the smell he inhaled, muttered with an arched eyebrow.

A canvas of uneasiness was painted on his face, with a bead of sweat snaking down his bandaged forehead — the giant chauffeur saw it. He stylishly glanced at him through the rare view mirror, then focused wholly on driving.

“You've always looked shitty but today, you're more appealing.” A scrawl fell from her lips as her eyes remained on his clenched, trembling fists placed on his thighs.

Something was terribly wrong with Tony, yet Mary considered that preposterous — why should any sane being act nervous after drowning in such bliss for the past days?

Yes, the dark eyed once believed she'd pass the remnants of her days locked in a squalid cell but miracul