I wake up groggy, like the morning after that night Ruby forced me to drink three glasses of wine when I was just twelve. Although its evening, I guess.

I touch my head, and find it to have a plaster over it.

AH!

What an idiot. I got so excited about being able to use something beyond my usual affinity that I didn’t even control it properly.

Did Jasper put this on…?

I bolt up as I hear a gentle snore next to me. As I do, the duvet drops off me and I realise I’m only wearing my underwear. Oh, gods above!

I snatch back the duvet and use it cover myself again.

From what!?

My husband. He is asleep in the leather computer chair that he has pulled up next to the bedside table, which has a small medical kit on it. In the distance, I can hear the washing machine thrumming in the utility room.

I’m not a smart girl; but it doesn’t take much to understand this scene and connect it to before.

Good job at bleeding out all over your clothes, Lapis.

And of course, Jim is a doctor. I’m sure he’s seen naked beauties before, and not immediately thought of bad things, never mind lanky sticks wearing un-necessary bras over their grapes. That’s just you, girl.

I flop back on to the pillow. Thunder-Striding is something I never managed before; I never thought it would be something I could do. My primary affinity is controlling magnetic fields.

I hold up my hand, and almost like it jumps to attention, a coin flips up off the bedside table and hovers towards me, doing somersaults around my hand like a male bird trying to impress a female.

Merely a useful party trick, like being able to charge my phone battery by myself.

Whereas, propelling yourself forwards with a sonic boom is a very useful skill for a thunder mage; but I could never ‘get’ it. I blamed it on my affinity, but apparently all I needed was to be embarrassed.

Well, it was that feeling of wanting to get away, or be closer, precisely. But at the same time, it’s not because you don’t want to be where you currently are, either. It’s a hard to describe feeling, but in those moments, I got it. When you think the right thing, the Vis understands. Its weird, but it does.

And what made me get it, was this man.

Every minute I spend near this person, I find myself getting more and more unrecognisable.

I suddenly recall seeing the image of myself.

Rosy cheeked, hale faced, golden haired, and almost sporting a quirk of happiness as it was taken just as he confirmed once more that he preferred me to Sasha.

Well, I don’t know if he meant it that way, but…

“No. Lapis. You ~are~ a ~truly~ ~amazing~ woman.”

My face heats up as I remember that, and then also remembers this evenings kiss; the second one. Less fearsome than before; so, I remember it on more discreet levels. And I remember that my own lips even moved a bit that time, like I was trying to engage, to understand, rather than resist. I lick my chops like a cat and then cringe at the action. Oh no.

In barely a few hours, my crush is now enough to disintegrate boulders, never mind juice oranges.

I look back up at my husband. I stare at his sleeping face. Even though he’s not traditionally handsome, with his strong nose, thin brows, and round shaped face all somewhat in conflict with one another, part of me still finds it cute. It’s also really tired, with rings around his eyes. He was already tired when we came back from the theatre, but I doubtless made him worse.

I feel an ache in my chest at that, joining my furious heart-beat. Though at least he said he doesn’t have to work tomorrow.

My eyes remain glued in place, and I swallow.

Suddenly, his beige eyes flick open, and I flinch. I never noticed before, but they have a slight amber yellow ring inside. The slightest hint of a magical circle there, betraying the fact that he is a magister, even as the muddiness of the surrounds reveals his otherwise common origin.

“Oh, you’re alright. Good.” He manages to say after a moment. I feel a bit bashful, staring at him.

“I should sleep on the sofa then. Ugh!” He stands up, and cracks his limbs with audible noises.

As he moves; something in brain goes stupid again, and an arm of mine shoots out from the duvet to grab the hem of his shirt, which is now untucked.

He looks around in alarm as it tugs.

“No.” I manage to say. “This is your bed. You should sleep in your bed.”

He looks at me and raises an eyebrow.

“I couldn’t kick a wounded patient from a bed.” He smirks, though I’m sure I see him swallow.

Then get in. Part of me almost says it. But even my stupid part hesitates here, my cowardice taking precedence. And I finally look away from him.

A few seconds pass.

“Now, don’t take this wrong way, but I really need to sleep, Lapis. I’ve had about 6 hours of sleep in the last 50 odd hours.”

And I really wouldn’t be able to sleep if you’re right next to me in your bra and pants. It goes unsaid from him, but its implied and I get it.

I let go and he smiles.

“See you in the morning.” I whisper. He nods in response, and then yawns, staggering out.

I roll into a ball under the duvet.

I stay like that for at least five minutes. I then hear a gentle snore again from the other room. He ~was~ really tired. That was the only reason he didn’t want you right that second, Lapis, its fine.

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?!

I bite down on my finger, almost drawing blood. The slight pain snaps me from my reverie.

I shudder. All I wanted at that moment was for him to get into the bed with me and hug me. And until my brain switched back on a second later, I don’t think it would have even cared if the cost was being ravished until I couldn’t stand up straight for two days.

I guess I can’t deny it anymore.

I shudder again like a pudding, then burst out of the duvet, making it fly off the edge of the bed.

I stand in front of the mirror on the wardrobe, and undo my braid, using my magnesis to hover my steel handled brush over to my hair, and give it a good brushing.

At the same time, I also beckon my phone over from the floor with my magnetism and spin it in the air along with a handful of coins and hair-pins, and other metallic junk, conducting them like I would an orchestra. I always loved orchestra.

What an absurd scene. A stick-insect girl in her underwear, her eyes glowing blue in the darkness from her magic, spinning around in front of a mirror with a bunch of baubles, grinning like a lunatic, like a raving mad druid doing a ritual in a grove.

I giggle to myself, loving how I’m wasting magical power on superfluous tricks. I see Dad’s furious face in my mind and giggle, as it truly sinks in that I now don’t have to give a shit about what he thinks.

Yes.

I’m free to do whatever I want. So, it doesn’t matter.

The phone hovers over to me. I flick aside Sasha’s face, which comes up from the photo gallery again, closing it, flick over to the chat, and then I type a single line.

LAZULILOVE>> [Send help. Falling in love.]