"It burns, Tom?" She narrows her eyes, glinting with mischief. He adjusts his tie, knotted at his throat, his collar buttoned to the top. There’s a flush to his skin, betraying his humanity, nearly imperceptible if only he weren’t so translucently pale. (She forgets that he still breathes, still bleeds, is for all intents and purposes still a man. No, a boy. A fallible, yearning boy.) 