8. Manifestations

He is greed, vengeance and anger. He is the sin and the betrayal. Uses, he, the pain of humans, the blood of humans, for pleasure. – Bloodsongs.

*

(Art)

A week had past, and it was testing and slow for Art. After the careless comment on his beautiful eyes, during that disastrous dinner, Aurora had started acting as if it had never happened–shit, he didn't know what he even expected from her after that, but still it was maddening.

The strange feeling at the pit of his stomach, it never went away. Whenever he saw Aurora, he felt the spark from his fingers, the magick in its strongest, as if his body had no control over what it was doing, when she was near.

He was afraid to do something that he might regret. Usually, the uncontrollable magick happened only when he was angry, but now... he had no idea how to control these random, haphazard thoughts that was running wild inside him. Thought of Rory and her beautiful eyes from the nightmares, her soft, sensual voice, her silky blonde hair, her tempting body. 

He had never been the kind of guy who fantasized when he looked at a woman. He had always been a gentleman, mostly. But with her, it was as if his moral compass was broken. 

Whenever she smilef at him with those soft blue eyes made of magic, he wanted to pull her close and kiss her plump lips with his begging ones to quench the thirst running inside his body.

It was as if she was the north pole of the magnet and he, the south, and whenever she was near him, his body begged to lean closer, closer... impossibly closer.

In this past week, Aurora had also become a constant presence in his house. Kristy and Aurora had become fast friends. 

One day he had found them playing with the crayons and water color, their face flushed with excitement and a mess of color-Rory was a beautiful mess-and when they noticed him standing there, they had lifted their eyes to him and smiled in sync, their smile so beautiful and sparkling and full of childish pride as they showed him the painting they had just made, which was totally unidentifiable.

Aurora's smile had reached, then, all the way to his stomach-a solid punch in the gut when he wasn't expecting-creating a mixture of unwarranted emotions. And his heart rate went above normal and his fingers sizzled with the power. The paintbrushes started to float and he almost panicked. It had taken a minute to calm his breathing and then... the brushes had fallen down and Aurora turned back with a confused look and then she looked at him, and for a second, he was scared she had seen it, but thankfully, she hadn't.

The next day, he found them, again, in the couch, their heads bent together, talking about the secrets no one knew and Art had felt the same punch, the need, the yearning-and anger, of course, for his desperation. They hadn't noticed him then, deep in conversation- discussing what? May be the secret of the universe or something-and Art had a realization... Julie had never spent time with Kristy, never took any effort to bond with her, and then he had felt guilty thinking about Julie in such a negative light.

Some days, Kristy and Aurora would be watching Frozen, Shrek and everything little kids loved to watch, a bowl of popcorn nestled in their lap, laughing and giggling, so engrossed, eyes fastened on the screen and he knew that her excitement wasn't forced. She did really enjoy Kristy and her company and that melted his heart.

Yesterday evening, when he went home, after hanging out with Zach, Kristy and Aurora were playing scrabbles and she had invited him to join in with a smile.

"Come on, Art. Are you any good at words? Do you want to be in my team?" Aurora had asked him with a smile. It was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. 

He had partnered with Aurora and they had both cheated on Kristy and Kristy stood up, yelling at them both with a glare, "You two are cheats. I won't ever play scrabble with you." Kristy had stomped away and they both had laughed in shared joke and happiness, and she had looked at him, her eyes full of happiness and he wanted to grab her and kiss her. It had took every ounce of his self-control and decorum to not do anything like that. 

But that Aurora, the one with Kristy-fun and wild and laughing-she was so different from the one who just walked by him with a tray of food-the one who ignored him, who didn't even look at him when he was staring-without even a hello.

This Aurora stood tall, sophisticated, proud, hair always in a neat ponytail-no free hair or messy hair for her-a polite smile in her lips that screamed stay-the-hell-away from me.

This Aurora didn't laugh or had paint splashes on her face. She was posh and classy even in her simple white blouse and jeans and she looked untouchable, like a distant star from another planet.

He had heard some whisper about her in the past week. Some of his buddies from basketball team had called her 'Ice Queen', some named her 'Beautiful alien.'

Art had wanted to defend her then, but how could he, when they had never shared a wave at school?

It was like they were having a clandestine affair-it sounded almost like the novels his mom would read-and she'd prefer keeping it in secret, away from the eyes of perishable, normal humans.

He sat in his seat and found his eyes locking with her electric blue ones. He thought for a moment and then raised his hand, halfway through, but before he had a chance to wave at her, she turned away from him. He felt irritated. What was her problem? Why was she so, so  alive one moment, and oh so cold the next? 

He was pulled away from his thoughts when Julie and Zach arrived.

"She looks so alone, why don't we ask her over?" Zach asked to Art, as he looked at Aurora.

"She didn't look alone, she looks like we are too beneath her." Julie muttered. Art opened his mouth, almost in protest, but then closed it. What would he say to that?

Why would he even want to say anything to that? As far as every one was concerned, they were strangers. 

"She is not snobby. She is just- she liked her privacy. When we went on a date to Bowl-me-in, she was so approachable and funny. She is interesting and she laughs readily unlike so many people." Zach threw a look at Julie, "She is nice and beautiful."

"You know Zach, you are telling this for the hundredth time today. But after that date, the nice Auroraa didn't even say hello to you at school, did she?" Art asked, irritated with Zach and himself for getting angry over the fact that Rory had went out on a date with Zach. It was like an itch in his skin and he was jealous. He hoped he wouldn't do something stupid like light Zach's hair on fire. 

"She talked with me in Algebra." Zach said, his voice defending his recent crush.

"Pass the calculator, please." Julie imitated Aurora, "yes, she was so warm, that I can almost see the smoke." Julie smirked at him.

Julie and Zach had never gotten along. Art didn't know what their problem was, but they were always fighting with each other. Zach's face turned a beet red as he glared at Julie and started eating his food and Art couldn't help but laugh at his best friend. 

***

The night was beautiful and the moon was almost getting full, back again. Art leaned against his windows and stared at Aurora's room. The windows were open, but it was dark-she must have slept. He sighed. He had planned to talk with her about why she acted that way at school, but she didn't came with Kristy today.

He closed his windows, and opened his notebook that was full of his sketches-sketches from his nightmares.

He stared at the eyes of the drowning girl and sighed. He could see all the dreams, so clearly, even after years, even without his sketches. It was branded on his memory. He didn't even share with his mom about the dreams, because somehow, it felt too personal. 

In the sketches, Aurora was floating in some, burning in some. All gruesome details of death.

'Who are you? Why are you in my dreams? Why are you here, now?' He thought with a sigh as he climbed under the cover.

 

He fell asleep, his thoughts circling his dreams and Aurora, and as sure as the dawn smothering the darkness, he dreamed. Of her.

He was outside a room made of glass. The door was made of mirror and he could see

himself in the mirror. He looked pale, he looked sweaty. Someone was standing inside the room, screaming to help, her voice alarmed with fear, tinged with pain. This time he knew who that someone was and he knew he had to help Aurora. The urgency in his blood was faster than before, because he knew how her eyes would look if she died. He didn't want to see death in her eyes. Not anymore. 

Something yellow started at the corner, and then it grew into a blazing inferno. The room screamed with the heat, as the fire licked it, and he could feel the heat outside the door. He searched for the lock, for the handle, but there was nothing.

The room was a glass box, an orange, flaming box and trapped inside it was her. 'It is so hot.'

He heard her whisper. He started to kick at the glass walls, punch it in, he tried to break the walls. But nothing helped.

He shouted, screamed, cursed and then he started to chant slowly, his green eyes flashing black and for the first time, he could use his power in his nightmare. The bursts of energy hit the glass walls and then the room had collapsed around her. When he stepped inside, the fire had died down, and Aurora slowly disintegrated to ashes.

Art woke up, shaken to his core, soaked to the skin and tried to regulate his breathing. He could sense her grief, and the heat lingered in his skin like a leftover reminder of the nightmare.

He stood up, legs shaky and opened the windows with trembling hands and his eyes widened, when he saw her room.

"What the hell?" He stood up from his bed as he stared through Aurora's window and the golden flame dancing closer to her bed.

___