she will ignite

He was already calling for the bartender and ordered a long island iced tea, extra sweet, and asked the bartender to put it under Evanora’s tab, before turning his attention to Evanora. “Thanks, but I prefer to enjoy my drink instead of having it taste like the way you look, pretty.” He’d leave the brooding to Evanora and enjoyed his drink on her dime. “Besides, I like my drink to have those little umbrellas. They make it look fun.”

"You keep calling me that, I'll have you shit bricks for a week." delivered with a smirk, of course. Two, three — several shots in, and she might tolerate his company.

Another shot flew her way — slit across the bar surface, with whatever mocktail Reza ordered that looked like fucking hello kitty exploded in that glass — tasted like it too, probably.

"Suit yourself." she downed her shot. "Drink fucking gasoline — see if I care."

In her opinion, the city government was utterly shameless. The recent news was a travesty. Expanding public transport wasn't inherently a terrible idea, but she despised how it adversely affected hardworking businesses. It was a gross injustice to all those diligent individuals, which is why she had taken it upon herself to take action. Typically, it was Helia—the other Dr. Vaz—who was poised to rally and incite change within the community. Yet, here was Lilette, disseminating flyers and raising awareness with unwavering determination.

Lilette was not one to annoy as a door greeter might. She was strategic and intelligent about her placement, ensuring she was neither obstructing pub entrances nor loitering at exits, and certainly not blocking the bustling thoroughfares. Instead, she had established a booth in the corner of a highly frequented street, her presence marked by a kind wave and a warm smile that invited curiosity before imparting knowledge.

Her booth was a small oasis of information amid the urban sprawl. Adorned with neatly stacked pamphlets, informative posters, and a small chalkboard displaying key points, it was an inviting corner table designed to draw in the interested and the inquisitive. The table was draped in a deep blue cloth, its surface organized with an assortment of materials detailing the impact of the proposed changes on local businesses. Lilette's meticulousness was evident; every item was placed with purpose, each flyer a beacon of her cause.

"I just wish to educate the rest of the population," she said to one of the passersby, her voice gentle yet resolute, as she held up a flyer. "I can tell you more information if you'd like?" Her voice was a melodic blend of conviction and care, her eyes alight with the passion that drove her.

There was nothing normal about it.

So she could almost scoff at the activist — the one, that barely had a human body in her, to ever behave so humanly.

"You know this town has bigger fucking problems." a shade of boredom rippled across her features.

There was a short moment where he heard the final notes of the last song The Forgotten played, but it was fleeting. He barely held his attention there, before it fell back.

"The moon," he repeated, as if he was listening and as if he understood what she was saying.

He kept her close, his hand on her cheek, his arm around her. What did he want to talk about?

"I don't remember, I just wanted to see you," he repeated. "And... and I had to tell you that I don't know how to be without you."

She was afraid to puncture it — intoxicated by something that she didn't even deserve. She could never earn any of this. The witch only ever deserved the loneliness she chose for herself — that ever bitter life, Bodhi had no place in.

"You should've cast me from your mind, a long time ago." she whispered, arms falling, as she realised she's been holding on to him tighter and tighter —

After their last conversation at the bar, Fabio didn’t think they had a good shot of explaining to Evanora how much of a hero she was to the people - meaning their 200 followers on Twitch and the 150 that had listened to their podcast. Meaning that running into her now was not something Fabio thought they were capable of doing, clearly they’d hit a sore note, and they didn’t know how exactly they could make sure that a second conversation between the two of them would go any better. 

But of course, the situation that would lead to said second conversation wasn’t in Fabio’s advantage. 

They reached the end of their nightly Ghost Tour, since the waterfront ( or lake side or beach front or whatever the locals wanted to call it ) had been reopened they’d made sure to end it right at the entrance, that way everyone on the tour could go out and have fun at the place. 

They finished their story on the great fire that happened centuries ago and the possible ghosts roaming the spot, and perfectly dodged the question about the murders last year. Then they dipped, walking away from the entrance back to town, almost colliding with a familiar figure. 

“Oh hey, Evanora Ray… fancy seeing you here,” they said, slightly awkwardly.

"What do you want?" her eyes met his own, and a slight resemblance to Zhyan struck her. A young, inexperienced witch , constantly in her way —

They lingered — brown on brown. Unintentionally at first.

"Make it something good. Better be a fucking witch question, otherwise don't bother talking to me." and that was her being nice — willing to help him if he was struggling with magic, just like she was ready to help her former friend.

Hasan was not a drinker, he'd never been one to think about taking sipping some alcohol to settle his nerves. He'd only ever been a social drinker, and it was rare for him to be social, it was even rarer to be social and drunk, since he tended to nurse a whole glass of whiskey or cognac during a single evening - which had resulted in being dubbed an 'old man' even at the age of twenty-one.

He'd instead gotten some strange mixed drink that was ten percent alcohol, ninety percent slushy. Or at least that's what it tasted like. He was drinking it from a closed plastic cup out of a straw, feeling like instead of an old man, he was now a teenager. "I am not sure I like what they've done with the place," he said to his companion. "It's certainly a step up from what it used to be, but there is a lot of concrete now. I've seen three kids scraping their knees on the street already."

Would he be missed?

Perhaps, a pack would be left without a leader, and a warmed up seat at the highest floor of their little castle would be vacant — waiting for someone else to take their spot.

"Of course you don't. " she muttered. "Men like you only know to complain."

He could probably sense the hostility beyond her voice — the small sparks of magic aiming at a potential new victim.

Bodhi pressed his eyes closed as he felt her arms reach around his neck, the heat of every place where their bodies touched, the warmth between them as the rain continued to fall. He felt more than he’d considered he might feel as she returned his kiss. 

Happiness. Acceptance. Worry. Love. 

Emotions that pooled into his heart and threatened to crash him to the floor, the rain turning to a weight that he could no longer hold. 

His legs felt… weak. 

She broke the kiss, and his eyes opened, then scanning her face, looking for anything that would tell him it was alright. Instead the heat of her fingers against his chilled skin gave him that answer, her words as he still leaned into her, and she was caught in his embrace. He could not move his hands, one still holding her arm, now lightly on her bicep after her arms had been around him, the other on the small of her back, holding her close to him. 

His lips were slightly parted, and it was electrifying as she ran a thumb over his lips, but it did become a barrier between them. He could not kiss her again, even though he really wanted to. “You are too,” he whispered. “Perhaps we should get out of the rain.” 

Her hands followed his own — all soft, all goosebumps that Nora tickled with the uneven caress of trembling fingers.

She wanted to wrap herself around him, let him pull her into his insides and build her a home there — a home that would last, that would not end up in ruins. An impossible thing — loving him, a human in a destructive and deadly world. He coud've been a purpose, a thing to guard — she could've been his armour, she still could be, if she only —

“Nora,” she said, but it was clear that she’d made a very horrible mistake. 

“I am so sorry, I didn’t know… I didn’t ask if it was okay to share, I was just so happy for you.” She held out both of her hands in a gesture of surrender. She knew Evanora could burn as bright as a forest fire, and she knew getting her down wasn’t easy, but she feared that perhaps right now, she also wasn’t the right person to do so. “I apologise for sharing your personal information, I had no good reason to do so, nor a good explanation. I cannot take it back, but what can I do to make it better?” 

What she and Bodhi had — it was temporary. He would soon no longer be a blind fool and come to his senses.

"You can control what goes out of your mouth, can't you?" cold and bitter.

Her eyes averted, finding a spot on the door to rest on. "Do just that."

Her attention was drawn for a split second. Evanora zipped her bags and set them aside, on the very edge of the stage. She had thought about it — booking gigs at more than one bar, but starting out in this town — she prefered to lay low.

"No, but I think It's about time I found another place." she replied.

The whole fucking council hated her guts anyway, and it wasn't like she was making a whole lot of this place alone. Pay checks barely covered her rent.

"Where do you play?"

And then there was a shot glass slid in his direction, and Reza could only huff. “Cheers.” He raised the glass to Evanora and down his shot, grimacing as the hard liquor burnt his throat. “Ugh, I hate that.” He wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

“So, are we goin’ to keep doin’ shots? Because if we are, we better do it properly. I don’t want to drink it straight. That shit’s nasty.”

He wasn't her friend. Reza could absolutely never be anyone she could trust. He left, when he was needed most, and that was something she could never forget. Her mind almost always spun to that particular moment, when she looked for him and he had slipped through some goddamn crack.

Like a fucking cockroach.

Because that was all he was good for. Hiding.

A mocking scoff escaped her mouth, "Properly? Down the damn thing, Reza. It's not poison —" a beat, " — Although I can change that in a second."

He took a deep breath to settle the rise of nerves in his stomach before he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and gave her a squinty eyed discerning look, "You could have said something to me in person, after all this time, I thought we were more close than that," which really was better than nothing at all. If she knew anything of him, she would perhaps be able to recognize that he was teasing her, with the exaggerated tone of his voice and facial expression complete with a slight pout to his full lips.

"It wasn't worth it." she finally spoke. "Dragging you down with me. It wasn't worth it."

He was cursed. Chae would've been of no help to her, and losing his life — it would be for nothing.

"I guess you've heard about what happened and — " how they called her a name, she wasn't deserving of. Silence followed again for a moment. "I thought about leaving this damn place. Start new, somewhere where — people didn't know who I am."

Oh, the fucking irony, Nora. You had your chance already, and you fucked it up.

"Like Zhyan did."

He felt like he should express himself better.

That he should be telling her that there was more to the way he liked her, that there was this intense and fierce pull towards her, that while he knew she didn’t need protection, he still wanted to protect her, to help her, to be by her side.

When he heard her voice behind him, he turned quickly, and then in two steps was in front of her, barely a breath between them. “I’m sorry,” he said, not sure what he was apologising for. “I just needed to see you.” He couldn’t hold himself back, one hand going to her cheek, the other snaking around her waist, as he pulled her against him and pressed his lips against hers.

"It's affecting you." she spoke, as if she was untouchable; never a victim, always the one holding all the power.

Her body leaned into his, "What did you want to talk about?"

They did not actually expect Evanora to say something that might be helpful, to them, in particular. They bit his lip and shook their head. “I… yes, okay, yes, I would like that,” they decided, annoyed by themself with how afraid they felt. They needed to know how to protect themself, even if they felt like they had made a contribution when the Gods were there. 

Topher frowned. They’d seen it, but they’d also seen someone who was incapable of saving a fellow friend. Perhaps that was the one thing that had fixed on their retina: death. They’d seen death up close before, they’d lost Merrin, but they hadn’t seen a Ghost literally splitting someone’s head open. 

They shuddered. “Maybe… I don’t know, I believe you but… I can only see that huge wolf and the Thor guy with the hammer.”

"Then you'll meet me at Lord's woods tomorrow." she had moved closer; words meant to be heard only by Topher. She would've sensed it, if anyone else was lingering by.

Huge wolves she was familiar with — hell, in a fucking battle, Evanora was confident she would win. A mythical God with a hammer, however was an entirely different scenario. It was a good thing, that fucker was on their side.

"You're not a target. You never will be, but you can damn right be collateral fucking damage. " she admitted — fuck, if Topher could even grasp the concept of that. "I'm pretty sure you're not ready to die yet." and you will, without my help — was what she meant.

But Fabio was great at throwing a conversation on another course. 

They were amazing at this, digging a hole further for themself. Mostly because Fabio didn’t think there was anything wrong with being a hero. And even if Evanora didn’t consider herself a hero, they’d still be a fan. Honestly, an Anti-hero was even cooler! 

“Everyone knows about you… or well, like, most of the witches. I heard about what you did, how you defeated Hel and the Fenris wolf!” They twisted the area so nobody would overhear them, so they just sounded like they were talking about who was the better rock band: ACDC or Metallica. “There is no way I couldn’t have picked up on you, you were the talk of the town for a hot second. Especially last summer, though I never believed that, obviously. I think the council was being dumb for restricting you.”

Dark eyes traced every inch of his face; studying the other intently — what the fuck was that one's deal?

"I don't fucking care about the council. Fuckers can do whatever they want." she reminded them. "It doesn't matter what I do— they'd always think I'm the worst person they met, and I'd like for it to stay that way." a tiny heroic slip up wasn't going to change that.

She took a small step back, as if to allow them to breathe a little easier. "Don't believe everything you hear around here." bullshit on top of more bullshit. "And don't join a fucking coven."

Bodhi didn’t even know why he would, he couldn’t make sense of these feelings, he couldn’t say he understood them himself, where they’d come from, that maybe they’d been there for a much longer time than he realised. 

But what did it mean? Was he supposed to act on it, could he? Would it destroy whatever was between them, or did it make sense as the next step on their path. He stared at her, frowning, rain making part of his vision a bit blurry as it fell from his lashes. 

“Because I am sure of it,” he said. Not that she deserved him staying, but that he deserved holding her. 

Somehow he was closer — drawn by terror, or longing or — simply by acceptance.

Everything happened too quickly; blood was racing to her ears and her neck, and pooled heat in regions that she'd long forgotten could ever be warm again.

If she only leaned two inches closer — she didn't have to, because as the thought crossed her mind, he had already stolen the air from both of them, when he pulled her closer.

Her arms instantly found their rightful place around his neck; magnets — glued to one another for a moment so short lived, before she pulled away, as if to remind herself of what was in her hands.

The bell chimed as the door swung opened, and Chung-Hee gazed wandered across the room before making his way towards the bar. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he plopped himself on the barstool, waving down the bartender to order his drink. His gaze then wandered off again at the crowd, biting his bottom lip when he couldn’t find who he was looking for. Heaving another sigh, he turned to tonight’s performance and tried to take his mind off things while enjoying his drink. When he came back to it, the set had already finished, and the performer was making her way to the bar. “Nice set.” Chung-Hee gave her a thumb’s up. “I’m not familiar with the songs, though. Did you write your own songs?”

Haunted, in the most gut punching way possible.

"What?" still a bit dazed, she turned around to meet the other. "Uh — Shit. Yeah, a couple." she was caught off guard; throat dry, eyes still glassy.

“Nora, are you alright?” she asked, worry etched in her face.

She was never meant to be here for that long — never meant to grow close to anyone, but there she was; the woman who saved her, and who Evanora saved in return, although there was nothing she could do that would ever compare to what Vaz has done for her. Frustration shifted into something more unkind.

"Just because you know shit about me...No — " a beat, " — just because you've been allowed close to me, just because I fucking let you, doesn't give you the right to go spreading my personal shit around." tongue sharp and laced with venom.

She could say a lot worse; she could rub it in her face how it was Nora she owed her life to. How this was never meant to be anything more than a partnership based on mutual interest (staying alive). You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

A question she knew she shouldn't ask — knowing Helia well enough, she was going to hit her back with something ridiculously santimental like — a friend, or a mother figure, or something even more atrocious like a — mentor. Like there was anything more anyone could teach her.

I won't bite the goddamn hook, Vaz.

Pre-planned snarky remarks already on the tip of her tongue.