"The first flame began three months ago, with a letter to the wrong letterbox. Such a simple thing, yet two halves became whole. Two unfinished lives were complete at last. Two hearts, weak and pining, found strength in each other.
"The second flame began a week ago, with a fist and bloodied face. This flame isn't gentle, isn't warming. It's out of control, loud, harsh. This flame burned the letters, for it was the only way to appease it. Yet still they arrive.
"The third flame began yesterday, with a realisation. The second flame can rant and rage, the first flame can be meek and submitting, but the third flame shines bright and beautiful. It will endure, until the end of time.
"Three flames dance on a mountain top, their names carved into the world. Friendship, anger and love, see how they dance and whirl."
Ty snapped out of his stage persona, immediately slouching as he returned to his seat. His English teacher cast him an analysing look.
"Very good, unusual to see you so eloquent." Ty remained silent. It was Addy's influence, he knew.
He'd had to burn her letters. His father had found them, screaming at him that he'd found a stash of betrayal, or something like that. The next night it happened again. So, after committing them to memory, he'd destroyed them. Memorise, burn, write. He didn't feel guilty for burning them. After all, her words weren't erased, they were still in his head. Sat just alongside his love. He banished the thought from his head. He was being stupid. They'd only ever met once.
He sighed. His English teacher was gonna expect more now. Great.