“You know,” Dacien started, moving his hands within his jacket pockets, “A night like this, especially after making up like that, would be a perfect time to kiss.” He glanced Myra’s way in time to catch her intense frown.

“Not happening.” She didn’t even bother to change her tone.

“Why not? A cute, romantic kiss under the starlight?” He fluttered his stupid lashes.

Myra looked up, scrutinising the sky. “There are no stars, it’s clouds galore, you idiot.”

“Hurtful. Why not?”

“I don’t know, because the sky decided on clouds tonight? I can’t explain the weather.” Myra almost rolled her eyes.

Dacien shook his head, a muddled look on his face. “Not that! I mean, why are you so sure you don’t want to date me? Is it something to do with me?”

Myra stopped in her tracks to look at Dacien in disbelief. She had assumed the kiss talk had been a very unfunny joke, but to learn he was serious, admittedly made Myra a little mad. Maybe being friends with Dacien isn’t as beneficial as she first thought – he’s like the world's bumpiest ride.

“No.” She remained stern, hopeful to finally get this through his, evidently, very thick skull. “I’ve told you before! I’m not interested. In anyone. I don’t care for romance, I don’t care for sex. I like hugs and high fives, and that’s as much as you’ll get out of me.”

Dacien opened his mouth to speak, but Myra wasn't finished. “Not to mention how much of an arsehole you’ve been! Being weird to me when we met, being very pushy at my store, abandoning me at a party you invited me to! If I did find anyone romantically attractive, you can sure as hell guarantee that it wouldn’t be you.”

“Again,” Dacien cut in, his shoulders slouched and his eyes downcast on the floor in front of him, “Hurtful.”

“Finally,” Myra eyed him, pausing long enough to entice his uneasy gaze back onto her. “I don’t think you actually like me like that.” She stated.

Dacien was at a loss for words. He laughed briefly but couldn’t keep the confused – or shocked – or maybe bewildered – look off his face. “You think I don’t like you? How on Earth did you get that impression?”

“There’s just something about you. I think it’s your weird persistence and the way you don’t fully fit in with your friends.”

“I fit in perfectly well with my friends! What are you talking about?” Dacien’s tone grew deeper. Myra heard the defence, but she also heard the spike of fear he was trying to cover up.

“If you really fit in with them, then why are you out here with me instead of back at the pub with them?” She looked at him, eye to eye, for a beat more before continuing the walk to her house.

Dacien faltered for only a moment. “Because I like you.”

“Maybe you just like the idea of being in a relationship,” Myra pondered aloud, “But why me and not almost any other girl? You objectively do look handsome; it wouldn’t be hard for you to find a girlfriend.”

Being studied by Myra’s assessing eyes pulled a ripple across Dacien’s skin. He wasn’t sure he liked that kind of attention. 

“Unless you don’t like the idea of being in a relationship...” She continued with a light finger tap on her cheek. “I don’t think you’re like me, though. Surely you would’ve confided in me if you were.”

If Dacien had a sound-activated uncomfortable meter built into him, it would be blaring at painful decibels by now. His expression said he’d rather crawl so far into himself he might implode than continue this conversation. Maybe imploding would be a good fate: it’d mean no more Myra to question him.

“Can we stop?” He said with an almost shaky voice. “I already told you, I like you, I think we’d be great together. That’s why I keep hanging around you.”

“You’re a liar, but okay. I’ll drop the topic.” She said to Dacien’s relief. “Instead, we can talk about why you’re following me. It’s late, I’m not letting you into my home.”

Dacien sighed, but it didn’t sound like he was unhappy. A smile soon carved its way onto his face. “We’ll see about that.”

“You see! You’re pushy. It’s weird! I’d be scared for my safety if I didn’t think I could beat you in a fight.”

Dacien scoffed. “You think you could beat me?”

Myra stopped just long enough to spot a weed growing through the cobbled street. She stretched her arm, palm wide, and Dacien caught the quick flash of green spark from her fingertips. The weed stretched toward Dacien’s leg, and within a blink, it had twisted around his foot, his leg, and threatened his abdomen. His eyes went wide and his body as still as ice.

“You think you could beat me?” Myra mocked before a devious smile.

Dacien swallowed, upset about the admiration growing in his chest, right above the fear twisting his gut that he was trying to ignore. She released him, letting the weed deflate until it was small, withered and dead. Dacien was glad that it was only plant life Myra could mess with. 

“Maybe not…But I could still protect you–” He said with a suppressed, smug smile.

“Ugh, my god! Shut up!” Myra grumbled over Dacien’s laughter.

It was a nice moment cut short by Myra’s straight hand held up to silence him. Her eyes were unfocused as she strained her other senses. A horrid smell had penetrated the air, almost like bitterness and burning hair. But mixed in were smoke clouds of citrus? 

It took a moment before Myra’s heart slowly sank. Dacien struggled to keep up when Myra’s walk became a run.