Chapter 48 48- Never Study Alone With The Fire Hazard
LEXI
At breakfast, Blake is… Watching me. Not in the obvious way. Not the way he does when he’s making sure I’m eating enough, or scanning the room for threats, or positioning himself just slightly between me and everyone else. This is quieter than that. More intent. His gaze keeps catching on me and lingering, like he’s weighing something. Then he looks away, jaw tightening briefly, only to glance back again a minute later. Conflicted. That’s the word for it. Like he can’t quite decide whether he’s satisfied with how this morning went, or whether he’s unsettled by it. It makes ME a little self–conscious though. Not because he’s staring, but because I get the sense he’s thinking about choices. Ones he’s already made. Ones he’s still making. Is he trying to work out what I am again? Running through shifter traits in his head, cross–referencing everything I’ve done, everything I’ve felt? Or is this… About the jewellery still? Whatever it is, he doesn’t look angry. Or frustrated. Just thoughtful. Controlled. Like he’s holding something carefully inside himself and hasn’t yet decided what shape it’s allowed to take. The cafeteria feels louder than usual this morning. There’s a buzz in the air, people talking over each other, speculating about the dance, making wild guesses about outfits and partners and what opposites actually means. I hear snippets as we eat.
“I hope I don’t get paired with…”
“What if it’s species–based?”
“I swear if they put me in…”
It’s strange, being assigned an outfit instead of choosing one. I imagine it would be disappointing if you loved shopping, loved planning your look down to the last detail. It HAS been taking a lot of pressure off of me in the morning though. Not having to figure out and put together an outfit has made it much easier to get ready. Still, if I did feel like sorting my own clothes… Hmm… I wonder if the Academy takes requests? Probably not. But then again… It DOES listen. And it clearly enjoys being helpful. I’ll have to ask it sometime. Either way, there’s something exciting about not knowing what we’re going to wear tonight too. Everyone trying to guess what the Academy thinks they are. What it sees when it looks at you. Honestly… Part of me hopes it might give me a clue. Something tangible. Something I can point to and say oh. Even a hint would be nice at this point. A colour. symbol. A theme. I’d take a shirt that says TEAM ‘whatever my species is‘ if it meant learning something. And then there’s Blake. I keep trying, and failing to picture what he might wear. Formalwear on men tends to be predictable. Clean lines. Sharp cuts. Boring suits. But Blake doesn’t feel like someone who fits neatly into tailored rules. A suit feels… Wrong. Too contained. Too polite. Just way too formal. Blake isn’t polite. He’s deliberate.
“So…” I say eventually, mostly to stop myself from staring at him while I imagine him in different outfits like a very weird dress up doll.
“Any ideas what you think you might end up wearing tonight?” I ask. He doesn’t hesitate long.
“Black.” He says. I laugh.
“Of course. But the outfits are meant to reflect who we are. Black doesn’t really say much about you.” I point out. His brow creases faintly, like the question annoys him more than he expected.
“I don’t know… Maybe I’ll add something from my hoard.” He says after a moment. I blink.
“…That feels like cheating. Adding your own things.” I answer.
“It feels accurate, I make my own decisions.” He counters. He has a point. And I’m meant to be adding the jewellery I agreed to borrow from hum too. Hope don’t hurt the Academy’s feelings or something. Then he turns the question on me, studying me openly now, not calculating, not distant: Arsing
“What about you? Other than what you’re… Borrowing.” He asks.
“I don’t know either.” 1 admit.
“Probably something light? Maybe pale colours?” I gesture down at myself and the darker outfit that I’m wearing today?
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Chapter 48 48- Never Study Alone With The Fire Hazard
“This isn’t really me. It’s nice, and fun to wear as a change. But I wouldn’t say this kind of outfit really feels like ME.” I explain. He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looks at me with that stillness that always makes my pulse trip, like he’s listening to something other than my words. Then,
quietly, with absolute certainty he speaks.
“White.” He says simply. I tilt my head.
“White?” I echo.
0191
“You’ll wear white.” He says again. Not a guess. A conclusion. I open my mouth to ask how he knows that, what made him decide, but he’s already looking back at his plate, as if the answer is obvious enough not to require explanation. Which somehow makes it feel more important. I guess I’ll find out tonight.
And for reasons I can’t quite articulate, the thought sends a shiver of anticipation straight down my spine.
2
Classes feel like they go very quickly today. Probably because almost no one is doing any actual work. Everyone is chatty and distracted, buzzing with anticipation, like the entire Academy is holding its breath for tonight. Potions is especially boring. Professor Matthews makes absolutely zero effort to rein anyone in. He hands out a reading task and then more or less checks out himself. Sigh. I try to focus, but it’s hard when half the room is whispering excitedly and the other half is pretending to read while clearly thinking about outfits. At least Blake is waiting for me when potions finishes. That alone improves my mood considerably. Basic Spellcasting is more interesting. I take my time trying to practice the drawing on magic technique that Layla and Blake taught me yesterday. I still don’t quite manage the assigned task–creating light without heat, like a tiny floating candle made of nothing but glow. I can almost feel it, like the magic is hovering just out of reach, but it won’t quite settle into the shape I want. Healing came so much more naturally to me. Still, I’m not discouraged. I’m fairly confident that I’ll get there eventually. It feels less like failure and more like… Learning a new muscle. An unfamiliar one. Blake gives the task a go himself. He succeeds immediately. Sort of… His ‘light‘ manifests as actual fire, floating and flickering cheerfully in front of him. Not heatless. Not subtle. Just fire. I can’t help but laugh.
“That’s not what they meant.” I whisper. He scowls at the flame like it has personally betrayed him.
“That should have worked.” He mutters. Technically, according to the textbook, what he did is more difficult than what we were asked to do. But I suppose being a dragon, fire comes to him a lot more naturally than gentle, contained magic. He looks faintly annoyed by that fact He tries again. And again. Eventually, he manages something closer to the assignment, though I’m pretty sure there’s still a bit more waking off it than there should be. I wisely keep that observation to myself. Then it’s on to Shifter Basics. Just one more hour to get through. The shifting exercises. I’m not sure if I actually make progress or not. I get a lot more of that prickling sensation th accompanied by a steadily building headache that sits right behind my eyes. By the end of class, it’s bordering on brutal Honestly, maybe I should ask Layla what it would take to learn how to heal a headache. Because that would be a lifesaver.
kly enough as I keep working on
onger, more persistent, but it’s
I practically skip out of Shifter Basics. Not because it went well, exactly, but because it went better. Or at least, less horribly than it has before. The class is a little less anxiety inducing now that I feel like I might be making a tiny bit of progress. Not real progress, not anything measurable. Just enough that it doesn’t feel completely hopeless anymore. I still don’t love it though. I suppose that’s natural. It’s hard not to dread a class when you feel like you’ve constantly falling behind, when everyone else seems to know what they’re doing and you’re just… Guessing. Trying. Failing quietly. My thoughts spiral as walk. How are we graded anyway? It’s frustratingly unclear. From what I understand, each subject grades us on three categories theoretical understanding practical skills, and ethical application. We have to pass all three to actually pass a subject Which sounds reasonable to theory. But New do they DECIDE? Theoretical understanding makes sense Exams Assignments Answering questions in class I can do that. I like that Ethical application, too, probably essays, scenarios, discussions. I can reason my way through those. But practical skills. My stomach twists. If I can’t figure out how to shift by the need t the semester, does that mean I fail? Berause that would be Devastating And even if I DO manage to shift once, or even inure that mice, would even count? Is that enough? Or do they expect control? Repetition? Precision? Are thers specific benchmarks Fin supposes to hit that no one has schwa explained yet? What if I can shift, but not the way they expect? What if Blake suddenly pokes my shoulder. Not bant lust enough to snag me vul of
head.
“You’re worrying again. Stop it He says flatly I make a face at him
“Oh wow, thank you. Why didn’t I think of that?” 1 mutter He sighs, slow and deliberate, like he’s bracing himself for this exact moment
“Think about the dance.” He says instead, changing tactics smoothly.
“We’re going to lunch now. Then I guess you’re going to go du Gul stuff. Or whatever you do to get ready” He says, clearly trying to distract
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Chapter 48 48- Never Study Alone With The Fire Hazard
outward pause before girl stuff makes me giggle despite myself. That helps. A lot. The tight knot in my chest loosens, just a fraction. He doesn’t try to solve the problem. He doesn’t tell me it’ll all work out. He just… Redirects me. Grounds me.
“Thanks, Blake.” I say warmly.
Comments
K Kelly Coquel
can’t wait to find out what their costumes will be and if they will be opposites of each other or not
7 days ago
32
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
