Kael drifted in a place that existed between breaths, where the world didn't quite remember its shape. Light floated like dust in golden darkness, the air scented faintly of roses that had burned long ago. Somewhere in that space, laughter rippled — the kind of sound that made the heart ache before the mind even recognized it. He followed it. A boy stood ahead, wrapped in faint light. Every movement of him felt fragile, as if even time held its breath around him. Kael reached out; his fingers trembled like they remembered a promise older than his life. "Wait—" But the boy turned, and his eyes — soft, afraid, heartbreakingly kind — dissolved into mist. Only a whisper remained: Find me again. Kael woke as if dragged from deep water. His chest heaved, hair damp against his temple, dawn slicing across his room in pale lines. For a long moment he simply sat there, palms pressed to his knees, heart thudding too loudly. The echo of that voice hadn't faded. He exhaled a shaky laugh. "Same dream," he murmured. "Same eyes." Outside, light spilled through the curtains, indifferent to his unrest. He leaned back, lips curving in a slow smirk that didn't quite hide the ache beneath.
"So it's you again," he said under his breath. "This time, I'm not letting you go again."
Kael was showering to cool his thoughts, yet his mind kept drifting to someone who could make him lose control just by existing.
After bathing, Kael stepped into the dressing room, his breath heavy, as if he'd just lifted a ton of iron — every movement measured, precise — the deliberate rhythm of someone who understood control and used it like armor. The buttoning of his shirt, the tightening of his cuff, the quiet slide of his watch over his wrist — each act was calm, but behind that calmness pulsed something restless.
In the mirror, Kael's reflection watched him back, eyes faintly glowing with the light that never fully belonged to this world.
"How do I make him notice?" he asked himself softly. "Enough to look back."
He paused, letting a smile tug at his mouth.
"Close enough that no one else dares to look at him that way."
He slipped his jacket on and walked out, leaving behind the echo of that vow.
The Morning the room hummed with energy — students murmuring, papers fluttering, small sparks of practice magic flickering like fireflies. But when Kael entered, the sound dimmed, not by command but by instinct. His presence bent the air slightly, the way heat distorts distance.
He scanned the rows, unhurried, until his gaze landed on Elior.
The boy was focused — wand steady, light circling his fingertips in gentle spirals. His expression carried concentration with a hint of hesitance, as if afraid his own power might betray him.
Kael's steps were quiet, confident, almost soundless as he crossed the floor. The air around him sharpened; several heads turned, pretending not to.
When he reached Elior's table, his sleeve brushed the younger's arm.
Elior flinched, eyes widening before finding his voice.
"Sorry— I didn't see—"
Kael's tone came soft, smooth as water. "No need to apologize. You just make it… difficult not to watch."
That smile. Half amusement, half something else.
Elior blinked, unsure whether to thank or question him. "W-watch what exactly?"
Kael tilted his head thoughtfully, the light catching the sharp line of his jaw. "Everything. The way you move, like the world's too fragile to touch."
Elior looked away quickly, cheeks coloring. "That's… not true."
"Then prove it," Kael whispered, leaning closer, voice brushing the air like heat.
The instructor called for paired work. Before Elior could react, Kael had already chosen him — naturally, inevitably.
"Try again," Kael murmured, stepping behind him. "You're gripping too tightly. Breathe."
His hand hovered near Elior's, not touching, yet the warmth of him seeped through. The pulse of their combined energy shimmered faintly in the air.
Elior tried to focus, but his heartbeat refused to listen.
"Better," Kael whispered, eyes tracing every tremor. "See? You only needed a little attention."
When the bell rang, Elior's magic collapsed gently, fading back into the quiet. Kael lingered by his side, gaze unreadable.
"Not bad," he said softly. "Keep practicing… I like watching you learn."
The words stayed long after he walked away.
Later, when most students had dispersed, Elior found himself walking down the old corridor lined with tall windows. Afternoon light pooled gold on the floor, dust swirling in slow motion. He thought he was alone — until a voice spoke behind him.
"Still thinking about the spell?"
Kael.
Elior turned, startled. The other boy leaned casually against the wall, one hand tucked in his pocket, the other spinning his wand idly between fingers.
"I— uh— yes," Elior stammered.
Kael smiled, stepping closer. "You shouldn't overthink it. Magic listens better when you stop chasing perfection."
Their footsteps echoed softly as Kael fell into step beside him.
For a while, they walked in silence — the comfortable kind that hides an unspoken current.
At the next turn, light fell across Kael's face, painting his eyes in gold. He caught Elior watching.
"What?" he asked, tone teasing.
Elior looked down quickly. "Nothing."
Kael's chuckle was low. "You're a terrible liar."
They reached the courtyard doors. Kael paused there, looking toward the fading light outside — a calm sky heavy with distance, not storm. "Days like this," he said quietly, "always feel like they're holding their breath."
Elior frowned softly. "Why?"
Kael's gaze lingered on the horizon. "Because something's about to change — you just don't know it yet."
Elior didn't know what to say. He only felt that strange, restless tug in his chest again.
Kael watched him go until he vanished beyond the trees. The wind shifted, and for the briefest second, he saw not Elior's silhouette but another — smaller, barefoot, standing in a rain-washed street centuries ago.
The same eyes. The same soul.
Kael closed his eyes. The memory snapped like lightning behind them.
The next day, energy filled the hall — static, sharp, electric. The instructor announced a synchronization drill, a spell meant to bind two energies into one controlled flow.
"Partner up," came the command.
Kael didn't ask. He was already there when Elior looked up.
"You again," Elior said, half-breathless.
"You sound surprised," Kael replied, stepping into place beside him. "Don't worry, I'll go easy on you."
Their palms brushed as they aligned. Elior's breath caught, the touch sending a pulse through the magic ring forming around them.
"Focus on your center," Kael murmured. "Let me find your rhythm."
His voice dropped lower, not flirtatious — magnetic.
Elior obeyed, eyes narrowing as he concentrated on the luminous sigil hovering before them. But Kael's proximity blurred his focus; he could feel the older boy's warmth even through the space of air.
"Too tense," Kael said. "Relax your wrist."
He guided Elior's hand gently, their movements syncing until the light between them flared, pulsing in time with their breaths.
Elior's thoughts tangled. "It's… reacting too fast—"
"That's because you're fighting it," Kael murmured near his ear. "Let me in."
And when Elior stopped resisting, the spell steadied — bright, controlled, breathtakingly alive.
Kael's gaze softened, his voice slipping just above a whisper.
"You don't even realize what you're doing to me."
Elior's eyes flicked to his, confused. "What?"
Kael smiled — slow, knowing, dangerous. "You tremble every time the magic touches you. But that fear—" he leaned closer, "—that's what makes it beautiful."
The air shimmered, colors folding around them like petals caught in a current.
"Don't lose focus now," he murmured.
"I'm trying," Elior whispered.
Kael's fingers brushed lightly along his wrist, anchoring him.
"Trying," he echoed, lips curved. "That's why it's so delicious to watch."
The spell surged, perfect for a heartbeat before dimming gently back to calm. Kael released his hand only when he was sure the light wouldn't fade.
The instructor turned away, satisfied.
Kael glanced at Elior, voice soft again. "You did well."
Elior met his gaze briefly, heart thudding. "You're… distracting."
Kael laughed quietly, a sound that curled at the edges.
"Good. Stay distracted—just by me."
Rain had started by the time classes ended, steady and soft, the world outside blurred into silver lines. Elior sat by his window, fingers tracing idle patterns on the glass. The reflection looking back at him wasn't calm — eyes wide, thoughts spinning.
He tried to read, to study, to sleep. Nothing stayed. Each time he closed his eyes, the memory replayed: Kael's breath near his ear, the pulse of shared magic, that whisper — so delicious to watch.
He pressed a palm over his heart. "Why does it feel like I've heard that before?"
Outside, thunder murmured.
A faint shimmer passed across the windowpane, almost like a figure standing beyond the reflection — gone before he could blink.
Elior leaned forward, whispering, "Kael…?"
Silence. Only the rain.
But deep down, something in him recognized the weight of being seen, truly seen, and it frightened him as much as it drew him in.
Meanwhile Kael lingered in the upper corridor, watching the rain draw silver lines down the glass. The world below blurred — moving shapes, flickering lamps, laughter carried faintly through the wet air. Yet none of it reached him.
He pressed a palm to the window. The cold bit into his skin, grounding him. For a moment, the reflection staring back wasn't his own — the face seemed softer, almost unfamiliar. It disappeared when he blinked.
He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "What are you doing to me…" he muttered, voice low. "Why do I feel like I've lost you before?"
The lights flickered. The faint hum of old magic stirred in the corners of the room, responding to emotions he hadn't meant to summon.
He turned away from the glass, eyes half-shadowed. "If this is what remembering feels like," he whispered, "then I'll carve every memory of you into my soul—so even eternity can't separate us again."
Thunder rolled outside — soft, like a heartbeat buried in the clouds.
Elior couldn't sleep. Every creak of wind sounded like footsteps. Every flicker of candlelight seemed to twist into a familiar shape. He rolled over, burying his face into the pillow, trying to push away the echo of Kael's voice.
But dreams are patient.
He stood again in the golden-dust place. This time the boy from Kael's dreams turned slowly toward him — and for a moment Elior saw himself.
Then he heard Kael's voice, distant but clear: This time, don't disappear.
When he woke, dawn was a thin promise at the edge of the sky. He sat upright, heart pounding, breath uneven.
Far across the campus, Kael stirred at the same instant, eyes snapping open as if someone had called his name. He smiled faintly, murmuring into the quiet, "Perfect. You're slowly falling into my grip — soon you'll uncontrollably lean toward me, even before you try to run away."
By morning, the rain had stopped, but the air still carried its scent — clean, electric, full of things unsaid.
Elior crossed the courtyard, mind adrift, unaware of the pair of eyes following from the shadows beneath the archway.
Kael leaned there, unreadable as ever. Yet for the first time in years, a flicker of something like peace touched his features.
"Perfect," he whispered again, echoing the thought that had carried through his dreams. "He's already thinking of me."
The words lingered, blending with the low hum of awakening magic in the distance — the quiet before the world changes shape.
And as the clouds parted, sunlight poured through like a warning.
And in that stillness, something long forgotten finally opened its eyes.
— by Aurea"Where hearts once broke, fate learns to bleed again."