Necromancer
[ˈnekrəˌmansər]
Noun
1. The practice of supposedly communicating with the spirits of the dead in order to predict the future
2. Black magic; sorcery 
“As I said, you can’t spell necromance without romance.”

“So, you’re like, a Necromancer.” Keir winced as his soggy, wet clothes came into contact with Nyx’s leather seats. Of course, he owned a shiny, black Camaro. Everything made so much sense now. His aura, his creepy house, his even creepier brother. How he knew about his dream. He sniffled, bringing his sleeve up to wipe away the snot threatening to run down his nose, not caring if it was gross or not.

“We’ll talk about that later.” Nyx murmured firmly, leaving no room for argument. He leaned over, buckling Keir in like he was a child. The closeness allowed him to breath in Nyx’s scent: Old Spice and mint. His head spun. Was it possible for someone to smell so good? He didn’t think so.

Nyx shut his door and walked around the car, slipping into the driver’s seat. The car purred to life, along with deliciously warm air spilling from the vents. He realized just how chilled to the bone he was. He allowed his head to fall back on the head rest, not having the energy to even hold it up. The ride was quiet and warm, and he found his eyelids closing without his permission.

***

“What did you do, suck the life out of him?” A sharp, nasally voice jolted him from sleep. He kept his eyes closed, trying to figure out what was happening. Someone was carrying him, an arm under his knees and shoulders, his head resting on an unpleasantly damp chest. Oh right, he’d fallen asleep in the car. Was Nyx carrying him? The guy must be stronger than he looked.

“Fuck off, Silas.” Nyx’s chest rumbled as he spoke. They continued on, going up a set of stairs and down the hallway. Then he was being set on a soft bed, and a whiny groan escaped him as Nyx pulled away. He hadn’t meant to do that, and he felt his cheeks warm in embarrassment.

Nyx only chuckled as he walked towards his closet. He rummaged around for a few moments, and Keir sat up, watching him. The back of his platinum blond hair was frizzing as it dried, his shirt still visibly wet, clinging to his skin. He had shed his Supreme hoodie in the car, likely because it was soaked. If he was cold it didn’t show, unlike Keir who was shivering. He looked down at his hands, pale and shriveled up. He’d never been good at handling the cold.

Suddenly clothes were being thrown at him. They landed in his lap and he looked up to Nyx, who was leaning against the door frame to his closet, arms crossed as he watched Keir. “The bathroom’s right there, get changed before you catch a cold.”

Keir nodded and got up, mumbling a thank you as he headed towards the bathroom. He shut the door behind him and locked it. He quickly peeled off his clothes and dropped them into a piled on the floor before putting on the clothes he was given. It was a black sweatshirt with the NASA logo on it and a pair of plain black sweatpants. The clothes swamped him, he had to push the sleeves up and tighten the drawstring, but he was immediately feeling a lot warmer.

He made the mistake of glancing in the mirror and cringed at his appearance. He had bags under his brown eyes and his tanned skin had paled considerably. His hair was drying in a weird way, it looked almost greasy now. He ran his fingers through the brown locks a few times in an attempt to fix it, but soon gave up. He’d have to shower to fix it.

Keir was surprised to find that Nyx wasn’t there when he left his bathroom. Maybe he had went to go change himself? He stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do with himself as he looked around the room. Everything was a varying shade of black or grey, which Keir almost found annoying. Just because he was a Necromancer or whatever, didn’t mean everything had to be dark. His bed was black and unmade, his comforter pushed to one side of the bed and sheets rumpled. There were small piles of clothes around the room and half empty water bottles on the nightstand. Undoubtedly a standard teenager’s room.

“You ready to talk?” Nyx asked as he stepped into the room. He had changed into dry clothing, in sweatpants and a t-shirt. He had two mugs in his grasp, which he sat down on the nightstand before plopping down on his bed. “Come on, I don’t bite.” He patted the spot next to him, looking at Keir expectantly. “Not unless you want me to.” He added with a wink, which made him blush furiously.

Then he got mad, because Nyx was teasing him. He crossed his arms over his chest, shooting Nyx a glare. “Th-that doesn’t make me want to sit with you.” He stammered, mentally cursing himself.

“Just come sit, sunshine. You look like you’re about to collapse again.” The nickname made him want to stomp out of the room, but Nyx was right. The longer he stood, the more drained he felt. With a small huff, he sat down on the edge of the bed, as far away from the blond as possible.

“Here.” Nyx mumbled, handing him one of the mugs. There was whipped cream on top, hiding the liquid underneath it. He wrapped his cold fingers around the warm cup but looked down at it suspiciously. Whatever it was, it could be poisoned.

“It’s just hot chocolate.” He promised with a roll of his eyes, sipping his own. “So, a storm, huh? That’s a pretty rare gift.”

“Not as rare as yours.” He shrugged, keeping his head down. Necromancy was a rare occurrence, especially after some war hundreds of years ago. Necromancers had nearly been hunted to extinction by their own kind, other witches. Only a few families were left worldwide. “It explains the giant cemetery here.”

“Someone’s gotta keep the spirits at bay.” Nyx leaned against his headboard. “So, can you only conjure lightning? Can you make it snow? It’d be nice to get out of school tomorrow.”

“I didn’t even know I could do that until about an hour ago.” He caved and sipped his hot chocolate, allowing the warm liquid to soothe his sore throat. “Usually the most I can do is plant manipulation and maybe talk to a few animals. I can communicate with dogs and birds really well.”

“I helped you uncover a new ability then.” Nyx smiled smugly.

“Is that usually how you treat other witches? There was seriously no point in attacking me.” He asked bitterly, remembering why he was even in this predicament in the first place.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I’ve only met a handful of other witches and they’re nothing like you…” Nyx trailed off, scrunching his nose up and looking away. What kind of witches had he met then?

“What do you mean by that?”

“They were stuck up and I don’t know. Powerful, I guess. You just seem so nice and soft.” He pursed his lips and set his mug down, before resting his hands on his stomach.

Keir bristled, furrowing his brows. “Are you saying I’m weak?”

“No, you’re obviously not weak.” He shook his head quickly, completely dismissing the thought. “You just don’t seem arrogant and stiff.”

“Whatever.” Keir grumbled, shaking his head. His eyes were feeling heavy, his eyelids drooping slightly. He yawned, deciding that he was tired of this conversation.

“Can you take me to my car? I should be getting home.” Keir asked, handing his drink to Nyx.

“You shouldn’t be driving like this.” Nyx shook his head. “Just rest here, I’ll take you home later.”

“I want to go home.” He frowned.

“And I’ll take you. Just not right now. I can give you a potion to help you sleep?” Nyx passed him the comforter.

“Yeah, no thanks.” Keir shook his head. Arguing with this guy was useless. He took out his phone to text his mom that he would miss dinner before laying down on the bed. He felt out of place. The bed smelled like Nyx, which was nice, but he was very much aware how close he was. There wasn’t even a foot of space between them.

He closed his eyes; pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to sleep knowing that. However, after only a few minutes he found himself slipping out of consciousness.