12.A Breath of Fresh Air

12. A Breath of Fresh Air

With my satchel bag across my shoulder and a spring in my step, I march across the campus in determination.

Nothing will stop me this time. I'm so ready to get to work.

Everything is different now.

This time, Az and I aren't strangers who can barely get along. We're clear about what we desire from each other personally and professionally, which means we're aware of the risks and challenges. We're also aware of what we could gain by seeing this through.

I even emailed Dr. Blossom about the romance happening between me and the cursed dragon shifter .

Since there's some time until I need to officially report my progress, he told me we would cross that bridge when we needed to. I may need to officially step back when that time comes. Until then, I'll keep going.

Whether I go through the university or not, I won't stop trying to help Az. I made him a promise.

Hopeful and eager to get started, I stroll through the classroom door and—freeze dead in my tracks. The lights are on. Az beat me here and he looks guilty. The room around him is a wreck.

"Okay, I can explain." He hastily shoves charred papers into a trashcan.

No need to explain. What happened here is pretty clear. Az made a giant mess and destroyed things when I left.

"You had a meltdown?" I guess.

Papers and boxes are scattered everywhere. Charred husks of debris litter the room after coming into contact with his electric curse. A smoky smell lingers in the air.

"…I might have been a little bit upset when you left," he admits.

Meltdown was my nice version of temper tantrum or hissy fit, but sure, ‘upset' works too.

"So much for cleaning up before you arrived." Now that he's caught, Az braces himself. "Alright, give me the lecture."

I shrug. "Most of this stuff is online, right? "

"You aren't upset?"

"Not really. My gut was telling me that I should start over anyway."

Looking around at the chaos of charred papers and boxes, the destruction doesn't feel like a loss. None of this research led to a solution. That leads me to two possible conclusions.

Option one: everyone has been looking in the wrong direction. Past efforts focused on what Az or his team could do. But the other person capable of lifting the curse is the caster who bestowed it in the first place.

Other researchers have labeled Ric Oscurro as a dead-end when it comes to lifting the curse. I understand why. Even contacting him directly has proved impossible so far.

But I'm not ready to admit defeat yet. If it were possible to get in touch with Ric himself, then the solution might be simple. After all, the curse lasted six years and counting. Surely Az has suffered enough and there's no reason to drag it out further.

The other potential problem is that something isn't accurate. If there is a problem with the research, the solution there is even simpler. Throw out the old data and start over.

"Starting over, huh?" he drawls, "In that case, maybe I should destroy more stuff."

"Don't be too hasty. Your first job will be cleaning all this up. "

There are some files on the table that Az looks interested in knocking over, but he sighs and steps away from them.

"We need to take care of one thing first," I say. "Come over here?"

He does, standing across from me and waiting to see what I'm up to. He can't wait very long, losing patience while I steady myself for what comes next.

"Please don't tell me you want to try team-building exercises," he says. "Are we about to start doing trust falls?"

"You wish."

Smirking, I grab a pen from the cluttered desk nearby and let it go. Instead of falling, it floats gently in midair, suspended by my air magic.

"Who's better at preventing a fall than an airbrand?" I quip. "Hold your hand out towards me."

He hesitates but then extends his hand. I reach out with my own hand, bringing it close enough that our palms are only a few inches away from touching.

Suddenly, Az yanks his hand away. "What the hell are you doing?"

"You were supposed to keep your hand there," I admonish him gently.

"The last shock fried your brain. Unlike you, I'm not crazy. How about you avoid being struck by lightning again? "

"Getting electrocuted isn't some new kink of mine. Just keep your hand out, stay still, and trust me."

He takes a deep breath, composing himself, and lifts his hand again, extending it toward me. Our eyes lock as we bring our hands close together once more. The air between us seems to hum with energy. I focus on maintaining the air magic between us.

Our hands keep drifting together, hovering so close that it's difficult to even see any space between them. My hand pulls back to confirm that the curse won't zap me once there's more distance between us, then I bring my hand to his once more.

"What," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "How? Are we touching?"

"Can't you tell when someone is touching you" I joke.

"What am I feeling?"

"A thin, invisible layer of air magic is keeping our palms apart," I explain. "It's basically a tangible air shield that should let us get very close to touching."

It acts as a barrier preventing actual contact, but it looks and even almost feels like our palms are meeting. Someone looking in might think we're actually touching. The heat from Az's palm radiates against my own, and I feel the faintest hint of pressure from his palm pressing against the shield .

"Air?" Az repeats with a laugh. "I'm touching air?"

"Air that I've made solid with magic, yeah. The idea is that keeping the air shield invisible like regular air helps mimic a real touch. You feel something and only see our hands there, so our brains should interpret it as touching. That's the idea anyway."

"Yeah, wow." His eyes are wide with wonder. "It's... incredible."

We stand there, our hands almost touching, lost in the sensation. It's amazing, being able to get this close to him for a moment.

Mesmerized, he stares at our 'joined' hands. "I've tried touching people with fabric in the way. I had a whole Rogue from X-Men phase like I was a damn comic book character and tried to touch people with gloves. The curse always finds a way around it eventually."

"That's not surprising," I say, focusing on maintaining the shield between our palms. "Unlike other materials that are inert, the shield has its own magic that must be dealt with first. The longer the contact, the more time the curse has to fight through the barrier. I may eventually be able to develop a shield that weakens the curse when it does get through. And that leaves a window of safe time where we're free to..." I trail off, letting the implication hang in the air .

"Touch?" he ventures.

"Or come close," I confirm.

He groans, and I realize he's struggling to hold back. "Can I move my hand, touch you more?"

"Sorry, not yet," I apologize, feeling the strain on my magical reserves.

"This is all I'm capable of right now. The shield is more like a prototype." I need more time to iron out all the details, but I wanted to have something to show him today to thank him for trusting me once more. "I'm only going to be able to hold it for about another minute."

"Can we do this again?"

"I'd like more time to perfect the shield first. And this has to be a one-time thing until we do more testing since I'm not a suitable test subject." Not when I'm more susceptible to electricity. So much testing is needed before someone like me should be doing this, but I couldn't resist just this once.

If a flash of disappointment appears on his face, he quickly masks it and devotes himself to savoring our almost-contact while it lasts.

We're so close we'd otherwise be touching, and the electric energy on his skin responds and eagerly reacts to my air magic, which welcomes the energy and holds it in place before reaching my skin. The curse will need to destroy the shield before it can reach me .

The shield may be invisible, but it takes a lot of power to maintain. Since the electricity could burn through the air magic too quickly if I used too little, I went overboard and made the shield as magically dense as possible. I can't make it last for long.

A viable shield will need to balance effectiveness and power consumption and requires advanced magical techniques. Since the electricity has trouble with rock, I may need to look into adding rock magic to make the shield tougher. That's if I can balance all the elements together, which might be tricky.

But I'm torn on the right approach. I'm not sure focusing on mitigation is the best course of action. Lifting the curse is obviously the best-case scenario. I don't believe all attempts have truly been exhausted there.

"Time's up," I say regretfully. My control over the barrier falters, forcing me to pull my hand away from Az's.

He abruptly turns away from me, leaving me staring at the black leather jacket on his back and wondering if I did something wrong. I slowly circle around to stand in front of him.

Az's head is down, and when he finally lifts it, I see tears shining in his eyes. My chest tightens; I hope those are tears of relief or gratitude rather than disappointment .

"How do you do it?" he asks, his voice filled with amazement. "How do you work miracles and make them look easy?"

"I care about this project... and you," I admit softly.

He looks at me with a mix of awe and disbelief. "This is a challenge for a lot of casters, being the one to beat this curse. Whoever does will be published, have their pick of research opportunities, and gain the respect of the whole magical community. But you came at it in a totally different direction. You're focused on helping me. You don't know how to beat it yet, so you level the playing field."

"To be fair, this is what I signed up for."

Maybe I was interested in being published and making a name for myself before I met him. Now… it's all personal. I need to help Azure Serrano. I need to touch him.

"McFly, this is closer than anyone has ever gotten me so far."

Much as I don't want to, I need to tell him to manage his expectations and be patient. I'll probably have to develop an advanced spell or enchantment instead of using my own power like I did just now.

When casters need more than just elemental magic, we use potions, enchantments, and spells. Those are the most common, so there are multiple ways to perform or undo the usual tricks us casters use, unlike curses, unfortunately.

I'm going to figure it all out, eventually. But I can't promise how long it will take me. Before I can tell him not to expect too much too soon, something else catches my attention.

"This is as close to a breakthrough as you've gotten so far?" I ask. "Does that mean you do believe I'll solve your curse someday?"

"For so long, hope felt harder and harder to hold onto. Then you come along. Being around you, it's impossible not to hope. I believe in you."

Wow, hearing those words in his low, proud voice sounds amazing but reminds me there's still work to do. Because I can't do what I truly need to in this moment and press my lips to his.

But at least we're making progress.

We're still fairly close, our breaths mingling in the charged air between us. I have to step away before we get carried away.

I glance around the room, taking in the mess he had made earlier, and let out a laugh to break the tension of the moment. "I hope you aren't buttering me up to avoid your new job. It's time for you to clean up."

He smirks. "I have a better idea."

"Are you sure you aren't just saying that to get out of cleaning? "

"No," Az shakes his head, suddenly serious. "I'm saying this because I trust you. You said you wanted to start over, so let's start over at the beginning. Why don't I tell you everything that happened?"

I swallow hard. "Are you saying..."

"I'll tell you why I'm cursed," he confirms quietly.

This is the moment I've been working towards, the chance to truly understand his curse and find a way to break it. I can't help hoping that if I hear it from him, we might discover something everyone else missed.

"Alright," I say. "Let's start at the beginning."

~

We return to the lounge on the third floor of the magical studies building where wizarding students often crash. However, the lounge isn't empty this time.

"I'm heating up food," the bored student explains after I politely ask for privacy. He eyes the two of us in the doorway. "This isn't a love nest anyway. Go somewhere else. "

We aren't here to hook up—not this time anyway, but I have a feeling nothing I say will convince him. Time for a different approach.

I pull my wallet out of my pocket and count the bills. Twenty dollars should do it - that's enough to buy some privacy. I slap the money down on the counter and the kid's eyes light up.

"Done," he says as he scoops up the cash.

Az moves back to allow him to leave but stands in the doorway instead of joining me inside. "Are you trying to sleep with me again? Read the room, Russo."

"Get inside," I order, and then close and lock the door behind him after he shuffles in. "I thought a familiar setting might help." And this was better than the destroyed wreckage of our office classroom.

Az glances around the room and sighs. "Nothing will make this easier, but I appreciate the thought." He's nervous when he chances a glance at me. "Promise you won't hate me."

"Never," I vow instantly. We haven't even started yet and I already wish I could wrap him in a big hug and reassure him. This is really all I can do to make it easier, find a nice quiet setting and listen openly. He has to do the rest.

He drops down onto the upright futon wearily, sinking back into the cushion. I think he's going to begin but instead he cocks his head curiously. "What's that smell?"

"Huh? Oh." The microwave beeps as it finishes heating up, and a familiar smell hits my nose. "Shrimp flavored ramen noodles."

Az makes a face. "It's really sad you know that."

"I was a college student not long ago."

"Not me, all this is new to me." Az gestures to the poster board with campus events across from the futon. "I applied to a few schools, but everything went to hell before I had a chance to choose one. Are you familiar with dragons?"

"Not really." I perch on the edge of the table across from him. "It's hard to tell what's fact and what's fiction with dragons." They were a species of shifter that hesitated to share much about themselves, not to those outside their horde.

Okay, I do know a group of dragons calls themselves a horde instead of a pack, which sounds badass.

"Turning into a huge, flying, fire-breathing dragon isn't something you just," Az snaps his fingers. "Do instantly. The dragon side challenges you, demands your best, and won't accept anything less. To take full control of the dragon form, first you have to prove yourself." Az nods to me. "Kinda like with you magical folk. "

He isn't wrong. "We need an element's essence to safely wield magic, but we have to get by with blessed tokens at first since the elements only accept those they deem worthy of a permanent partnership. It's cool dragons have their own rites of passage to go through."

"Most dragons don't have full control until our 20's. When we finally gain our dragon's approval and balance our dragon and human sides, it's a time of celebration. We feel invincible, we live it up and enjoy ourselves. I was no exception. The curse happened when I was 22. I'd mastered my dragon and was, uh, I'm not sure how to put this."

Az is the epitome of a closed book, not used to discussing his personal life anymore, so I expected him to clam up at any moment. I'm ready to reassure him. "Take as much time as you need."

"What?" He shoots me a confused look. "I'm fine, I just…"

"If you don't feel comfortable explaining something, you don't have to—"

"No, this isn't difficult to say, not like that."

"It's okay, Az—"

"Marty, I was a beautiful bi dragon shifter who only wanted to fly and fuck," he says plainly with a hell of a side eye. " That's what I wasn't sure how to phrase. "

"Oh." That stops me in my tracks. Now I feel silly. This wasn't the difficult part of the story, not emotionally difficult.

"And hey, that's not me bragging."

"You're not bragging?" I wonder skeptically.

"Back then, I might have." He sighs. "I'm just setting the scene. I had people all over me. I welcomed it. I was a totally different person."

"What, like you wore colorful clothes and smiled all the time?"

"Okay, I wasn't totally different," he amends. "Maybe I've always been a glass-half empty kind of guy, but I had a family, a horde, a life. People gravitated to me. I never had to go to bed alone unless I chose to. Most of the time, I preferred company."

The idea of him in the past isn't so hard to picture. With his black clothes and bad boy vibes, all he'd have to do is smirk and stay close-lipped and mysterious, kinda like he is now. He'd have people eating out of the palm of his hands, desperate to know what was underneath all his layers.

He isn't that different, except his walls are higher, his silence sharper, and he's become closed off to the point it's painful. I still wonder what he'd look like. A little younger, dressing about the same, but without so much of the darkness and sadness clinging to him .

"Lots of 20 somethings go through phases like that," I say.

"Really?" He raises an eyebrow. "You had a wild phase?"

"Not sure how truly wild it was," I chuckle. "I always told someone where I was going and used protection, but yeah, it was wild for me. My mother, to my horror, called that my ‘first come, first serve slutty twink phase.'"

"Yeah, I was having my own wild phase." His face tightens and he stares down at his hands as he speaks. "Hooking up with no strings attached worked for me. I was normally upfront about not looking for anything serious. The second you start playing games, that creates strings that can trap you and trip you up. Why complicate everything? There were enough people interested in the same thing as me, so there was really no point lying."

"So… you normally did that?" I ask gently, feeling like we're getting closer to where everything went wrong.

"Yeah. I was an idiot." His face twists bitterly as he continues. "Our horde was trying to finalize a business arrangement with a wealthy magical family. One of the sons in this family liked me." The blanks there are easy to fill in. The Oscurros are the wealthy family. Ric is the son who took a liking to Az. "Our leader asked me to let him think there was a chance, that we could have more than just a few nights together." He clenches his fists and grimaces. "It was a terrible idea. I knew it was the wrong thing to do from the beginning. I should have said no."

"But it was your horde." Given that the curse and his own regrets are punishing him enough, I have no desire to rub salt in the wound. "Your alpha asked for your help." Or whatever the dragon version of an alpha is. "You wanted to do right by your horde."

"That doesn't make it right," he argues. "I should have said no. I tried not to actually lead Ric on. I never lied about my feelings. But I never told the truth either, that I wasn't interested in more." His shoulders are tense, and he won't look at me. "Damn deal didn't even go through. I hurt him for nothing. Ric thought there was hope and then I just moved on and dropped him. I hurt him and I didn't have to."

He's so torn up about his regrets that it takes every ounce of willpower I possess to stay where I am and not move closer. I worry that if I do, I won't be able to resist reaching out. I force myself to focus on the story.

"This is why you were sure Ric cursed you and not the other electricbrand."

"Yeah. She was a nomad like me," he says. "We had fun, then we went our separate ways. She had no reason to hold a grudge. Ric does." He laughs darkly. "And after being with one electricbrand, I was excited to be with another one when I met him. Electricity crackled under their skin whenever I touched them. I used to think the shock felt good."

"Ric was hoping for a real relationship with you," I say. "And when he realized that wasn't going to happen…"

"Yeah," Az says. "He cared about me and got hurt when I didn't feel the same and left. So, he took everything I cared about away. He clipped my wings and my, well," Az laughs darkly and looks down at his lap. "He locked that up tight too."

I need a few moments to process all I've heard, but Az is tense on the couch, clearly waiting for a reaction.

"Okay, making someone think they have a chance when they don't isn't right," I say. Az hangs his head, so I do get up and chance getting closer. "But if you think I'm going to hate you or think differently about you, you're wrong."

He looks up at me with disbelief.

"You made a mistake," I say. "We all do. You've been paying an incredible price for it too." That's all the calm I can manage before my anger leaks through. "He had no right to do all this, to let it go on this long. To justify all the isolation you've suffered, you better have broken his heart and then some. Like, did you also steal a million dollars from Ric and kick his dog? Because then I can understand a vicious curse. "

"No, but—"

"You also insulted his mother? Okay, now I get it."

"No—"

"Then there's no excuse," I say firmly. "The pain he's caused you has gone long past any revenge a jilted lover is entitled to. You can't think this is all your fault—"

"No, he sucks," Az fills in with a faint smile. "No argument there." His smile is replaced by a scowl. "The worst part isn't just that he won't lift the curse. He pretends like this isn't even his problem, that I was fooled by someone claiming to be him."

"It's sickening," I agree.

To me, the impostor claim is his family's attempt to protect their reputation and cover up the truth while distancing themselves. It is within the realm of possibility that someone with a passing resemblance to a person of notoriety would claim to be them to impress others, except Az seems sure he was dealing with the real thing.

And if his horde was doing business with the Oscurro family, what, was it a whole family of impersonators? Not likely. And if one of the Oscurros were the real deal, they all were.

Az was dealing with the real Riccardo Oscurro, I'm sure of it. Ric isn't innocent, not even close. He could lift the curse anytime. But that would mean he'd have to admit what he did. This case has gained some attention, and it seems that he and his family see no upside in enduring the bad press it would bring, even if he could stop Az's suffering.

Man, I love air magic, but I almost wish I were a firebrand. I'm angry enough to set something on fire and enjoy watching it burn.

"Look McFly, you being all offended on my behalf is cute, but I'm not innocent here. I misled someone who had feelings for me. I wasn't honest. Now I'm paying the price."

"But you're doing everything Ric isn't," I argue. "You aren't pretending to be innocent. You admitted and learned from your mistake. You paid for it too, and you don't deserve all the misery this caused you."

I really wish I could hug him right now.

All I can do is hover near the edge of the futon and tell him, "I'm so sorry."

"The night before our horde left and flew to somewhere new was the last time I saw Ric," Az continues his story. "He found me and bragged about what he'd done, so I'd know it was him." He makes a face and shudders as he remembers. "Ric touched my face and said something about that being the last caress I'd feel for a very long time. I think he cursed me then. It felt like the same electrical charge I always picked up from him, so I didn't even pull away until it was too late. I realized something was up and ran out of there just to escape him."

Az slumps against the futon, looking drained. "That's what happened. Now you know the whole story."

This hasn't led to the breakthrough I hoped for, not yet anyway. I'm still glad I waited to hear the details directly from him. I knew that I needed to learn the details that led to Az becoming cursed, that it was an important part of this project.

Yet every time I tried to look through old reports and read their accounts, I stopped myself. Our relationship has never been strictly professional. It wouldn't have felt right, reading this personal story on paper, seeing the analytical notes someone else took. I had to hear it directly from him.

I sigh and stand up. "How about we call it a day?" We've been productive enough and we certainly aren't going to get anything done after this.

Yet Az stays right where he is.

"Are you not coming?"

"Being done with work for the day sounds good… I'm just trying to find a less pathetic way to say that I'd rather not be alone."

"Come back to my place then," I offer.

He raises an eyebrow. "Are you trying to take advantage of me in my vulnerable state and get me into bed? "

"No!"

"Too bad," Az says. He rises from the futon and tries to shake off the bad memories. "It would work."

"…Really?"

"You and me alone at your place? It's not really a tough sell."

Az is giving me such a sweet smile too. He didn't dredge this up again and share because I'm a researcher helping him. He wanted to tell me. He trusts me. The curse may keep us apart physically, but somehow, we just keep growing closer anyway.

Hooking up isn't why I invited him over, but I wouldn't say no to seeing more of a naked beautiful dragon shifter. Or helping him take his mind off his problems. And here I thought the best way to spend the evening would be setting something on fire or finding Ric Oscurro and setting him on fire. Forgetting him and getting lost in each other sounds even better.

Revenge isn't my job anyway. This whole saga started with a wronged wizard's warped quest for justice. His revenge turned Az's life upside down and it still hasn't returned to normal.

I still don't know how to lift the curse. But doing anything that makes Azure Serrano forget his isolation and lose his frowny face, even for a little while, sounds like a good start .

With any luck, our efforts and a purer emotion will save him. Not the hatred that births a curse but something from the heart.