Blaze was born fire. Not just with it—as it. His steps scorched the ground. His breath dried rivers. Animals either fled or dropped where they stood.

No one could touch him. No one even tried.

Until you came.

A moon bunny. Soft, glowing, with ears that sparkled under the stars and eyes that shimmered like silver. She hopped right into his path without hesitation.

And giggled.

“Wow, you’re really warm,” she said, squishing her face against his burning arm like it was nothing.

He blinked. “…Are you stupid?”

She tilted her head. “No. Just not flammable.”

She clung to him like a scarf. Made him tiny outfits stitched from starweave that wouldn’t burn. Slept curled against his chest like he wasn’t a walking furnace.

He flew across mountains, skies lit with fire—and she rode on his back like a happy little parasite.

“You’ll melt,” he growled.

She just yawned. “I’m cozy.”

At night, when the fire beneath his skin flared and sleep never came, she’d hum lullabies into his chest until the flames calmed.

He called her Little Idiot. She called him Toasty.