Jate told himself he was just going for a walk, but his feet led him to the courtyard. Phun was sitting in the fading light by the cracked flagstones, holding a mug of tea. His sketchbook was open, surrounded by piles of used charcoal. He looked frustrated.

When he saw Jate, Phun's face lit up. "Jate!" he exclaimed. "Good. You're here. I need your eyes."

Jate was thrown off guard. "My what?"

"Your eyes. The way you see things." Phun gestured to his sketchbook. "I'm trying to draw the mist. The way it moves when you... disappear. But I can't get the weight right. It keeps looking like smoke. Smoke goes up. Your mist... it goes in."

Jate walked over. He looked down at the sketch. It was a mess of charcoal smudges, dark and angry. Phun was right. It looked like a fire.

"It's not random," Jate said instinctively. "It has a structure. It's a lattice."

Phun stared at him. "A lattice?"

"Yes. Like a net stretching."

Phun grabbed a fresh stick of charcoal. "Show me. Describe the lines."

Jate hesitated, then sat down. "Okay. Start from the center. The pressure pushes outward, but the anchor point is here." He pointed to the center of the page.

Phun's hand moved, quick and sure, following Jate's instructions. "Like this?"

"No, that's too sharp. It's softer."

Jate rolled up his sleeve and let his forearm partially phase. The perimeter of his skin feathered into a glowing, rose-colored mist that drifted before dissolving into a clear, translucent vapor.

"When I relax, I can let it just bleed out," he murmured. Jate tensed his arm, and the vapor snapped backward. "When I pull it in, it's like flexing a muscle."

Jate looked up to gauge Phun's reaction, and they caught each other's eyes. Phun held the gaze a moment too long, then suddenly flashed a bashful smile and quickly looked back down at his sketchbook.

For a split second, Jate felt as though he'd stepped out of his own life and into a movie scene. Part of him felt alarmed, the other part elated. Instead of bracing for danger, Jate chose to enjoy the moment. Maybe they were flirting, maybe they weren't, but Jate felt acknowledged. Appreciated. He'd never felt so relaxed while using his power before. He ignored the undercurrent of warning that normally haunted his existence and eased up for a little while.

They kept improving the drawing for over an hour. The light faded until they were working by the glow of the courtyard lantern.

Jate instructed. Phun translated.

"I don't know about that," Jate said. "It needs to look like it's vibrating."

When Phun finally sat back, wiping sweat and black dust from his forehead, the illustration on the page was beautiful.

It was a complex, interlocking web of shadow and light. It looked stable. It looked intentional. It looked exactly like Jate felt on the inside.

"That's it," Phun whispered. He looked at the drawing, then up at Jate. His eyes were bright with excitement. "That's how you work."

Jate felt a flush of heat inch up his neck. "It's... accurate enough."

Phun laughed. "It's brilliant, Jate! I couldn't have pulled it off without you."

Phun reached out and grabbed Jate's half-shifted wrist. He felt the resistance of Jate's essence. The charcoal on Phun's thumb left a dark smudge on a wrist that was half-boy, half-atmosphere.

Jate looked at the smudge, and a feeling of uneasiness surged up again. He pushed it back down.

He glanced down at the sketch once more. "It's fantastic, Phun. A real masterpiece."

"You're the real masterpiece," Phun said with a small, sheepish smile.

Jate suddenly felt nervous. It wasn't a good nervous. His moment of happiness was slipping away. He looked at Phun's hand on his wrist. He looked back at the drawing. He didn't know where to look.

Jate reached for Phun's mug. "Can I?"

Phun nodded.

Jate took a sip of the tea and grimaced as the cold, over-sweetened liquid coated his throat.

⁕ ⁕ ⁕

Peach was cutting across the courtyard when she heard the footsteps behind her.

"Following me again?"

Chick fell into step beside her, an orange lollipop already in her mouth, spinning it with her tongue. "Following implies I care where you're going."

"You care."

"Maybe I like the view."

"Clearly." Peach kept walking.

Chick skipped ahead and planted herself directly in Peach's path, walking backward to face her. Her glasses caught the light. "I figured something out about you."

"I know."

"Yeah, you do, don'tcha. You know what I'm going to do." Chick tilted her head, studying her. "But you never actually leave. You could avoid me… but you don't."

Peach said nothing.

"So you enjoy it," Chick said, her voice dropping to something more savage than sweet. "How long have you liked me?"

Peach just kept walking.

"Do you like to be teased, or is it purely physical attraction?" She bit down on the lollipop with a sharp crack. "Which one?"

Peach stopped walking and moved close to Chick's face.

"Neither."

Chick felt it like a pin through her sternum.

"Not my cup of tea," Peach said, observational and unhurried.

Something behind Chick's smile faltered. She bit her own tongue and sucked in a breath.

She recovered quickly. "I'm clearly your perfect cup of tea."

"Not," Peach said.

Chick opened her mouth, then closed it. Peach turned and kept walking.

"You like this game, Peach," Chick called after her.

"And so do I," Chick muttered as she walked in the opposite direction, unwrapping her next lollipop.

⁕ ⁕ ⁕

Later, Jate found Peach on the steps outside the dorm.

"What's going on with you and lollipop girl?" he asked, sitting beside her. "I saw you with her earlier."

Peach looked at him sideways. "Yeah."

"She obviously wants you."

Peach was quiet for a moment. "I know," she said finally. "Her feelings are extremely ear-splitting."

"So, do you like her… or…?"

"No, I'm on her radar only," Peach said plainly. "I only do enough to get through it, not a drop more."

"Good, 'cause she's clearly bad news." Jate looked out at the courtyard. "So, you're just gonna let her follow you around?"

"If I stop her completely, she redirects," Peach explained. "I've seen what she does when she has nothing to aim at. Trust me, the blast radius on this one would reach further than just me."

"That still doesn't sit right with me."

Peach looked at him. "It doesn't matter."

"Why not?"

"It's just for now, to give her eyes something else to follow," Peach continued quietly. "I already know who I'm for."

Jate raised an eyebrow. "And who might that be?"

Peach smiled.

⁕ ⁕ ⁕

Read ahead on Ream ↓

https://reamstories.com/snnomad