Conjuring Fire and Whispers of Air

Rites

Just like that, he kissed me. Trying to make it all better, but it made things worse.

I pulled back as quickly as it happened, and I slapped him.

I grounded out, "Get out."

He turned, not looking back once; he opened the door forcefully and left. The door became blurry, and my sniffles filled up the empty room.

"Lexi?" I heard my brother speak softly from the staircase.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I forgot he was here.

Another knock at the door with a familiar pattern.

I knew who it was. Not wanting visitors, I asked Alex to answer it and turned into the kitchen to fix a cup of tea, trying to admire the vase of unopened dahlias from this morning's harvest.

I heard silence as the door opened and closed—soft footsteps came closer to the kitchen. The kettle popped as they stopped in the doorway, creaking as they leaned against it. I refused to turn around.

I swallowed before answering, "Don't tell me you could hear that from across the street?" I asked bitterly, filling the cup.

Nothing was spoken as a reply; I took it as a 'no'.

"Tea?" I asked, holding up an empty cup.

"Lex."

The whisper of his voice made me pause and blink back more tears. I abandoned both cups and turned. He had seen me in this state before; my eyes were red, and my voice was scratchy and the lump in my throat would not shift. I expected to see sympathy, which I didn't want.

"Are you okay?"

I looked into his eyes. The ones that would make me feel better, ones that were free of pity, just concern. Taking steps towards him, I shook my head no and, hugging him, buried my face in his chest. He returned the favour and squeezed.

"Did you spy on me, Leo?" my voice was muffled by his shirt.

"A little," he admitted, "That was some anger. I just caught him leaving the house and decided to check on you," he murmured into my hair.

He moved us forward, not letting me go, to the counter and filled the other cup.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked.

I pulled back slightly, one hand clutching the back of his shirt, and I took my drink.

"It was stupid. Hopefully, it won't happen again. I can't believe his nerve... He was angry because he caught us kissing yesterday. He can't let this crush go and let me be happy."

He rubbed my back calmly, "Sorry. I seem to have upset the balance. I should have asked first if anyone was in the picture. I didn't realise you were in a situation-ship."

I rolled my eyes at the term, and he began to untangle himself from me. I grabbed his arm before he pulled away and looked up at him.

"He is not. It was a non-runner from the beginning. We tried dating, years ago, but it was too weird. He is like a brother to me," I explained, "You shouldn't be sorry. To be honest, Quinn has been encouraging him, her stupid plans to match us up."

"He still kissed you, though."

He made me pause for a second time, and his arm rested on my waist. His face never changed, as casual as talking about the weather.

Looking confused, I asked, "How do you know?"

He smirked, "With a red cheek like that, I say he provoked it. I didn't tag you as the violent type unless forced."