Top note . . . heart note . . . base note. Accusation. Betrayal. Heartbreak. Ashlyn exhaled sharply as the intensity increased. This was nothing like Regretting Belle, which had nearly burned her fingers with its festering hostility and pent-up pain. In fact, this was the exact opposite. It was cold and cutting, like a January wind, and strangely . . . bloodless. It was an odd way to describe anger, which usually registered as hot and sharp, like a slap. But there was no heat here, only a blue-white conflagration that felt like fire but wasn’t. No, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t anger she was
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backtracking, the guy's anger is hot and heavy, but Belle's is cold and despairing. feels very Heathcliff and Catherine
