the floor. Crossing his legs, he nodded. "I know."
Deciding to sit in the same cross-legged position as him, we faced each other while quietly admiring the night view. It literally felt like we were suspended in the middle of the air, but we were in the midst of an invisible tree.
"Can you imagine running through the garden and crashing into this invisible tree?" I offered.
"A stunning experience," Westley commented with a playful grin.
"So how did Rick get this position?" I decided to ask. "Didn't Keru say something about him being lucky or something?"
"Keru was originally chosen for the role, that's why," Westley declared.
"Really? Does that mean Rick is Dark Flame?"
"Yup."
"Why did Keru refuse? Isn't it like a respectable role that's hard to get?"
"It's definitely respectable and gets you a lot more privileges than the average straight-A student, but it's similar to being on a student council. It's not only fun and games, even if they make it seem that way. It's a position where you have to prove yourself or you lose it."
"You lose it?"
"At the end of the semester, our test involves us fighting one of them."
"With magic?!" I shrieked. "I-I barely know how to summon my flames right now."
"It's a possibility. Meaning, people are randomly chosen. The chances of you getting matched up to fight one of them are one in five thousand freshmen. I doubt it's going to happen."
"I feel like you're trying to promote my bad luck from coming out of its cave to prove you otherwise," I whined. "Knowing Rick, he probably wants payback since he didn't screw up my life with his potential suing case."
"Hmm." Westley looked deep in thought. "Maybe, but I feel that would be a stupid idea for him to act upon."
"Why is that?"
"You'd disgrace him."
"Did you not hear the part where I said I can't summon a single flame?"
"Wanna bet?"
"Sure? Why not. I'm pretty confide- EEP!" My body went from siting to suddenly rushing up into the air, my back pressing lightly against the glass. It took me a second to realize I was pressed against the ceiling, with Westley now up and staring at me with a teeth-glimmering grin.
"I'm gonna let you go," he announced. That made my heart go from a few fast beats to become the heart beating champion of heart attacks.
"Wha-EEP!" I couldn't even finish as my body suddenly dropped. My body spiked in temperature until red flames ignited beneath me, swirling so quickly it made a mini flaming tornado that sent a rush of wind at me.
My body came to a slow stop, just above Westley, who had his arms outstretched as if to catch me.
"I win."
"W-Win?! You almost killed me!"
"And you stopped yourself from falling into my arms," he pointed out.
"These flames aren't mine!"
"Then whose are they?" he questioned, and as if to defy my statement, blue and green flames with trickles of silver lit up and danced around me, picking up the wind that hovered and kept me afloat.
I blinked as I watched the two different shades of flames dance around us, one seemingly cooler in temperature than the orange flames that flickered strongly around us.
My shock must have extinguished their brief existence because they suddenly went off, and I shrieked when my body fell forward once more.
Westley caught me, but the impact brought us both to the glass floor. He let out a huff and sighed. "Gabriel always says I'm a horrible teacher. I think I have to agree with him in this case."
He sat up, allowing me to rest against him as he quickly scanned me from head to toe. "You're not hurt, are you?"
"Physically? No. As for my pride, it's been stabbed and left to bleed." I sighed, but I couldn't even be mad with his dramatic attempt to prove me wrong.
"So about the 'I can't ignite a flame' bet," he began, and I leaned back to give him a glare.
"Yes, you won. What do you want?" I felt like a petty loser, but I was gonna go with whatever he asked from me.
His hand gently stroked my messy hair, the win having made it into a static mess.
"Can I..." he began, staring into my eyes. "Kiss your forehead?"
"That's an intriguing request," I remarked. "You could have just kissed me."
"I like to ask permission," he whispered, leaning in to press those soft lips against my forehead. The action made my stomach flutter with butterflies, but the connection ignited a different feeling.
A familiar tenderness that carried an ancient heaviness to it.
My