14.When Flying Becomes Falling

14. When Flying Becomes Falling

Az and I stare at each other from opposite sides of the bed.

He slept on the couch last night but came into my room when he heard my alarm go off. Neither of us are quite ready to start our day.

"I wonder what you feel like," he whispers. "A breath of fresh air maybe."

"You won't feel anything except for my skin, not unless I let you." Unlike Az who makes lights flicker when he walks into a room, branded people have more control over their elemental responses.

"That's where you're wrong. I can always feel the element in a caster." His smug smile widens at my surprise .

"Really? That's impressive."

"I know."

Is it a trick? A dragon thing? There must be a reason. "How do you do it?"

"I'm naturally impressive?" he suggests.

"Nope. Try again."

Now he huffs and his smugness turns into… embarrassment? "I wish I could take the credit, but my grandma was a human witch. A firebrand. When we flew up high and I rode on someone's back as a little kid, I always got cold. I liked sitting on her lap. She taught me how to find the warmth in her."

Hmm, I can almost see it. A tiny Az perched on his grandma's lap while they both traveled through the sky on a huge dragon. The mental image is adorable. A firebrand caster would go well with dragons… so would an airbrand.

"Eventually, when I grew up and met other casters, I realized I still knew how to seek out the element in someone and feel it."

Az has mentioned this ability a few times before. He said he could feel the charges in the electricbrands he hooked up with, that he liked feeling the electricity until the curse happened. I hadn't questioned it, not knowing enough about dragons to know whether they could sense supernatural qualities in others.

Apparently, it's not a dragon thing, it's an Az thing .

Our pillow talk is interrupted when my alarm clock goes off again. Ugh. Much as I'd rather stay here, we better start our day.

We get off to an especially slow start, though we eventually pull ourselves together and make it to campus. It's late morning when we drag our feet towards the magical studies building.

He looks scruffy and hungover, and I can feel the bags under my eyes. We were up most of the night having sex, our version of it anyway. We did not get enough sleep.

This day already sucks, and I don't know how I'm going to get anything done.

We go inside the building, and I shudder, looking at the stairs with dread. "Elevator today?"

"Totally."

He watches above the closed metal doors as our car slowly climbs upwards, waiting on the lit up 1 that refuses to budge and switch to 2.

He'll be waiting a long time. These old elevators take forever.

"You know," I begin hesitantly, "I thought it would be a lot different, not being able to touch. I mean, there are drawbacks, obviously. But last night... it didn't slow us down."

The first time when we watched each other across the futon, we were awkward. We had to adjust to being in the same room and only able to look and not touch, but we're really getting the hang of it.

"Yeah," he replies. "I never got very far into romantic relationships with the curse. I tried, thinking it would be the only way anyone would put up with it." He sighs, his expression clouding over as he remembers the past.

"Sorry you had to go through that."

"Yeah. It wasn't just dating. Even with friends and family, they slipped away. It was a struggle. With you, sometimes it sucks, but..." The elevator hums quietly around us as Az smiles softly at me, shaking off the bad memories. "Having you around makes it a lot better. You really are a miracle worker."

"No, I'd say us clicking has just as much to do with you as me."

"Damn, I like it when you're sweet to me, McFly."

"You also like it when I'm bossy," I tease.

"Guess I just like you," he replies while I try not to swoon.

As we continue to banter, I suddenly realize that we've unconsciously drifted towards each other. We're now standing in the center of the elevator, closer than we should be.

"Hey, we're really close. "

"We're in an elevator," he deadpans. Only after the snark does he glance around, his eyes widening as he takes in our proximity. "Oh, shit."

Our eyes lock, and for a moment, neither of us moves away. A loaded, sexually charged moment – one where I wish we could get even closer.

But we just stand there, tempting fate and enjoying being in each other's space. We aren't touching, but we could be, easily.

"How did we end up in this position?"

"The elevator is partially to blame," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady.

"But we have to take responsibility too. Isn't that what you said? Can't fight what you don't understand, right?"

"Right," I agree. He's right. Well, he quoted me, so I'm right. We aren't a little too close for comfort because of the elevator. We're close because we want to be . That's just what happens when you're in a new relationship and everything is going well. "This is really nice, but..."

"We need to back up," he finishes regretfully.

"Yep, we really should."

There's a pause, our bodies still dangerously close. Tempted as I am to try out some magic again, I'm afraid that's a slippery slope. The more we get used to being close to each other, the harder it will be to remember when we do need to keep our distance .

All we need to do here is act like mature adults and back the hell up.

"You aren't backing up," I inform him.

"Neither are you."

I struggle not to lean in. I want so badly to snuggle into him, to be cuddly and couple-y. But we can't.

"I really want..." I trail off.

"Me too," Az sighs, his eyes filled with longing. "But we can't."

"Not yet," I agree. That's going to change soon if I have anything to say about it.

Summoning all the willpower I possess, I step back. We force ourselves to our respective sides of the elevator.

The easy companionship from earlier is now strained, each of us acutely aware of the distance between us. But at least we are a safe distance apart now.

That was a close one.

I take a few deep breaths, trying to compose myself. Ideally, we need more personal space than this – but we're still trapped in this damn elevator.

Az groans, rubbing the back of his neck. "How long does this fucking elevator take?"

"It's an old building," I reply, glancing around the cramped space. "We're almost there." But before I can say anything else, a recorded voice comes over the speaker in the elevator .

"Please remain calm while we address a technical magical issue."

"Great," I mutter, slumping against the wall.

"Is this going to take a while?" he asks.

"There's no telling," I admit. "A 'technical magical issue' means a caster screwed something up, and now something in the building is malfunctioning because of it. We're stuck here until it's fixed."

"How bad is this? Are we lucky the building's standing at all?"

"No, nothing that bad. But the pipes, heat, lights, electronics, lots of things can go wrong at a moment's notice when the magic gets too close. You get used to it during the school year. Waterbrands practice outside so they don't flood anything. Firebrands always practice in designated areas with a waterbrand on standby to avoid burning anything down."

"Interesting world you live in, McFly."

"Yeah? Magic hasn't scared you off?"

He has seen and lived through the worst of it with this curse, but Az only watches me with a soft look on his face. "Magic's pretty neat, especially in the right hands."

"Yeah." Though at times like this when stuck in an elevator… "I still wish they'd sort out whatever's happening faster."

"Does this happen a lot?" he wonders next .

"Not really. Well, depends on how you look at it. Students screw up all the time, but usually the fix is simple."

We fall into a moment of silence as we pray for the elevator to resume course. Nothing happens.

"Did you ever screw anything up when you were learning?" he breaks the silence, catching me off guard.

"We all make mistakes when we're students."

"Sure, but what about you? Cause any major technical difficulties?"

"No, are you kidding? I'm too—" One glance in his direction tells me he's buying none of this. "Alright, one time!" I stammer. "Fire magic and I don't get along very well. It's super annoying, considering my firebrand mother—" I clear my throat and cut off. "Never mind."

"Okay, I have to hear this story."

"Seriously?" I groan, but I can't help smiling.

Just as the awkward tension starts easing and I'm preparing to share this humiliating story from my past, the lights in the elevator car flicker off, plunging us into darkness. The car jostles lightly, and Az and I instinctively brace ourselves against our respective sides.

"What the—" he starts, but his words are cut off by a sudden tremor that shakes the entire elevator car .

"Please remain calm," the automated voice chimes in, sounding far too serene for the situation.

"Easy for you to say," he grumbles under his breath.

The car rumbles, jerks, then goes still.

"Is it over?" I ask.

He doesn't get a chance to respond. The car gives a mighty lurch, jostling us around like ragdolls. It's impossible to prepare for the violent motion, and I find myself flung from one side of the car to the other. Desperately trying to get my bearings, I struggle to regain my balance as the elevator rises and falls, jerking us around again.

Before I know it, I'm crashing into Az. We're touching in too many places, our bodies pressed together in the confined space. Our foreheads are brushing, his fingers are against my wrist.

Our eyes widen with realization, and panic sets in – this isn't good. At all.

Alright, now is the time for magic. I start activating my magic but am interrupted before I can do anything. As the car plummets and jerks again, I tumble back and away from him, my world illuminated by a great white flash of lightning. A searing jolt of electric magic surges through me.

Our morning started out so well. We even tried to put distance between us in the elevator to avoid a close call.

None of it mattered .

The last thing I'm aware of before passing out is the sound of Az banging on the elevator doors, desperation in his voice as he shouts for help.

"Open the doors!" he yells. "There's an emergency! Get us out of here now! He's hurt!"

My world goes black, and I'm lost in the darkness.

~

"Everything looks good, Mr. Russo. We can release you this afternoon."

The doctor glances up from her clipboard to see me already out of my hospital bed and eagerly packing my belongings.

"Thank you," I say.

The doctor gives me a warm smile before stepping out of the room, leaving me to finish packing.

Five days. It's been five days since the curse struck me with a vengeance.

This time it was serious enough to warrant visiting a hospital instead of using campus medical services. After a mix of magical and regular medicine, and being confined to bed for nearly a week, I'm so ready to look forward, not back .

In the corner of the room, Az stands quietly, his expression pensive. He's been quiet ever since the accident.

He visits me every day and stays with me as long as visiting hours allow, but he never quite acts normal. He must be worried I'm going to bolt again… poor choice of words, bolt.

Last time we had a close call, I resigned from studying his curse and tried to distance myself. I get why he's scared. But I made a promise that I intend to keep. We'll figure out how to deal with this together.

"Don't worry." I reassure him as I place my folded clothes into my bag. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You want to stay at the hospital?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"No," I chuckle. "I'm only leaving the hospital. I'm not leaving you." I zip up my bag and sling it over my shoulder, feeling lighter than I have in days.

Together, we step out into the hallway. My stomach rumbles, and I wonder where we should go eat lunch.

Az murmurs, "Wouldn't blame you if you left, not this time."

"What happened was a freak accident. It won't happen again," I insist. "We won't take another elevator together. "

He gives me a doubtful look, knowing it's not that simple.

"Okay, maybe we should look into relocating our office," I suggest. "Somewhere outside of the magical studies department. We won't have to worry about baby casters learning the ropes right next to us."

"Go sign out of here," he says. "I'll wait outside." I watch as he walks away.

I sign the necessary paperwork with lightning quick speed—very quickly, I sign the paperwork very quickly—and get the hell out of here.

As I push open the hospital doors, the sunlight greets me and feels warm on my face. It's perfect. This is the first time I've felt fresh air and direct sunshine in five days. I bask in the light, but Az is different.

He's waiting for me outside, having found the one sliver of shadow by the building to plant himself in. He looks tense and wary, his shoulders hunched as if bracing for impact.

"Should we talk?" I ask as I approach him, offering him my bag to carry. People released from the hospital shouldn't have to carry their own bags, that's like a rule of the universe. But he leans away from me, avoiding even indirect contact like I'm contagious .

"What's there to talk about?" Az replies, his voice clipped. "You were struck by lightning. Again."

Not sure I'd phrase it like that. Yes, it looked and felt like lightning to me. However, the magical healers were able to determine it wasn't that bad. Struck by a strong electrical charge fits better, but he doesn't seem to be in a mood to quibble about semantics.

"I'm okay," I stubbornly insist, stepping closer to show him I'm not afraid.

The elevator showed us that some situations are out of our control. We can make better plans for limiting and dealing with those situations in the future.

Right now, however, we are in control. We won't get close enough to touch. That means he doesn't pose any danger to me.

He takes a cautious step back, still keeping a safe distance between us.

"You're okay for now." Worry is etched across his face. "This shock was stronger than the last one. The next one will be even worse."

"You don't know that."

"Come on, Marty. You're a smart researcher. Don't tell me you've forgotten all the factors that determine the strength of the charge."

"Az, some variables may have changed— "

"Changed? The more we care about each other, the stronger the shock could be."

"But if the touch only lasts a second—" I start to say before Az interrupts me again.

"What if it lasts longer? What if something like this happens again and we can't control how long we're in contact?" He narrows his eyes skeptically. "You're an airbrand and magical healing has limits. Even if the next hit is weaker, how many more strikes can you really endure?"

He isn't wrong. That's another thing the magical professionals at this hospital made clear. After we walked them through the particulars of the curse, they were extremely troubled by the possibility of this happening again.

If another touch between us lasts for more than a few seconds, there's a very strong chance the voltage will reach the levels of a lightning strike. If it lasts longer, it could be even stronger than normal lightning.

"I know you're scared," I say. "It was frightening, but I'm already thinking about how to avoid another hit." I attempt a weak joke, "Az, the new safety plans I'm considering are going to drive you crazy. There's going to be bullet points and spreadsheets. We should really consider a daily safety checklist. I have so many precautions in mind, all devoted to ensuring physical boundaries. "

"None of that matters." Az shakes his head sadly. "This is going to keep happening."

"You don't know that!"

"I do," he insists softly. "Say that we put distance between us and make sure we stand at opposite sides of every room. Say we never ride another elevator together again. So what? What does that really solve? Nothing. We only keep our distance because we have to , not because we want to. Of course we'll be good at first, but it won't last. We'll start drifting into each other's spaces again. It's just natural, us wanting to touch each other and be close. None of your precautions will make that go away."

"You say that like our feelings are the problem. The curse is the issue, not us."

"You're wrong. Our feelings are exactly the problem."

I wince like he struck me—dammit. I wince like he landed a metaphorical blow.

Az sighs, realizing he hit a nerve. "As long as the curse is active, how we feel for each other becomes an issue. Denying that only creates a bigger risk for you, Marty."

"Then we can try a different approach. We'll figure something else out." I have a terrible feeling about all this. I look him in the eye and tell him in no uncertain terms, "You can't make me go. I promised you I wouldn't. "

"Yeah. You kept your word." He manages a small smile, but it doesn't erase the sadness on his face. "Next time, you might not be able to. What if the next strike takes you down and you can't get back up?"

"That won't happen."

"You don't know that. I'm the one stuck with this lightning curse, but you're the one with all the light. You take it all with you when you go. That's why it hurt when you left. I was back to being alone in the dark. I was trying to protect myself when I made you promise you wouldn't run. Now I'm trying to protect you."

"All these precautions are only temporary," I remind him. "The distance is temporary, just until we lift the curse."

I can feel a knot forming in my stomach as I watch Az's expression harden. "Neither of us know when that will happen. It could be tomorrow, it could be ten years from now... Could be never."

"We can figure this out," I whisper. "I'm not going anywhere."

Az stands up from the wall, determined. "I know you aren't leaving, which is why I have to walk away instead."

"Trust me. I know I can solve this," I say, desperation making my voice tremble.

He looks at me with soft, sad eyes. "There's no doubt in my mind. If anyone can break the curse, it's you, Marty. But I don't want you dying in the process."

This awful, sweet, terrible, protective bastard keeps calling me Marty and I hate it. The nickname has grown on me.

"You've been struck by the curse twice. I won't let you take a third hit," he promises.

"I won't move," I warn, hoping he'll change his mind. I wish I could reach out and touch him, hold onto him tightly.

Instead, Az starts walking around me. My chest tightens as I realize he's really going through with it. "You can't just walk away."

I stand in the shadow of the hospital building, a moment of pure despair washing over me. My heart aches, and I want to cry. Az leaving hurts tremendously, even though he's only doing it to protect me.

Our connection is so strong, but is the curse that divides us stronger?

There's already been progress. Focusing on mitigating his curse is a relatively new approach and I've already made a breakthrough with the tangible air shield. But Az doesn't care about making things better for him, not anymore. His goal has shifted to ensuring I stay safe.

No. I can't let it end like this. I refuse to accept this. When Az had doubts about another study and backed out, I chased down this opportunity because I knew I could help. I chased down this man on the campus quad. He's crazy if he thinks I won't do it again.

I wheel around, determined to follow him and make him listen to reason, only to find that he hasn't gone far. He's still there, struggling to leave me behind.

"Can we go somewhere and talk?" I ask.

"No. You can't change my mind."

"But you're still here," I point out. There's still hope.

"Because I have something that belongs to you." He reaches into his pocket and then tosses something to me. It feels cold against my palm, and as I look down, I see it's the trick quarter I gave him – our promise that I wouldn't run away again, that we'd figure this out together. "Thanks for letting me hang onto it for a while."

This really is an ending. He intends to leave and not come back.

"Azure, you can't just—"

"Marty, you don't understand." There are actual tears in his eyes and he's holding himself stiffly, not letting himself come closer. "I used to think this curse was the worst thing that ever happened to me. It alienated me from my horde and stole my ability to shift. I thought it took everything, and right when I think it can't get any worse…" he laughs darkly. "Turns out, being permanently afflicted with a curse is n't so bad after all. Even if I can never touch anyone else for the rest of my life, it's really a small price to pay compared to the alternative."

"The alternative? What could be worse than this?"

"I can survive a curse. I've already done it for six years." A mix of sorrow and fondness appears on his face as he looks at me. "But I won't be responsible for your death. I can't survive killing the man I love."

Nothing is remotely funny, but I fight an urge to laugh. Isn't that just like Azure Serrano? He doesn't confess his feelings until he's walking out the door.

This isn't like me, however. To just stand here and watch him walk away. I go after what I want, I solve problems… but this one stumps me.

Which one of us is more stubborn is a toss-up, but Az is certainly no pushover. He thinks he's protecting me, and he's not going to budge without a damn good reason. I don't know what I could say to convince him.

This time, I'm the one who falls back into the shadows by the hospital. I need the building to hold me up as I watch him walk away.

Five days ago, his curse zapped me hard and knocked me out of commission for nearly a week. I'm not sure which hurts worse, the strike or him leaving me behind now.