PSEUMINO, VENTO AUREO.

✦.⁺ innocuous.

═ ☆. FIRELIGHT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE comforting.

It was supposed to make you feel warm and safe and alive.

Why was it, then, that your heart nearly stopped every time the lighter flickered?

The lighter was blocked on all sides by your textbooks on your desk. Too paranoid to sleep, you had spent all of last night awake. You'd stuffed the underside of your door and secured the window to prevent drafts from coming in. Then you had perched on your bed, barely moving as you watched the lighter cast unsteady shadows on the wall.

It was a ridiculous amount of effort for this challenge. Trish was bluffing, a part of your mind told you. There was no way she and Giorno would know if the lighter went out. It would be too easy to shut off the lighter until next midnight, when you would have to return it to them.

But the other part of your mind knew that was the point. This was a matter of personal integrity, not skill. It probably didn't matter whether or not the lighter went out. What mattered was if you would be willing to tell the truth if it did.

Maybe it was stupid, but you were determined not to let the measly lighter go out. You wouldn't be able to live it down if you didn't beat this test. The rest of your time at Sapiena would be spent remembering your failure.

Ten minutes before your class, you risked moving from your position to change and get ready. You considered what to do as you pulled clothes out of your closet, casting glances at the lighter shoulder every so often. It would drive you crazy if you left the lighter in your dorm. The entire campus could go up in flames. Bringing the lighter with you wasn't any better, though. The student body would know what was up, but the faculty and security wouldn't and could possibly confiscate it. How were you supposed to go through all your classes with a lit lighter?

A knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. You went to answer it, making sure to position yourself in front of the wall of textbooks around the lighter.

You opened your door as gently as you could, the crack barely large enough to see the other person.

"Can I help you?"

You were met with a flash of teeth.

"Actually, this is a matter of whether or not I can help you."

You didn't like the look of the blonde-haired male on the other side of the door. His smile was too sharp, his blue eyes shifty. He pushed the door open wider despite you keeping weight on it. The corners of your mouth tightened.

"I don't think so. Please excuse me."

A leather shoe prevented you from closing the door.

"Wouldn't it be easier to keep that lighter lit if you had help?" the male asked.

You feigned confusion. "What lighter?"

"You know what I'm talking about," the male said lazily. "If they gave the lighter to you when you left the bonfire, you still have over thirteen hours to go."

"I have to go," you said, trying to force the door closed. You didn't know who this guy was or want him anywhere near the lighter.

"You need to go to class, and I'm guessing you spent the last ten minutes deciding what to do with the lighter, right? Just leave it to me, and I'll watch it for you." The male grinned again, raising his eyebrows.

Was this part of the test? Was this guy here to throw you off?

"I'll be fine," you said firmly.

"Listen," the blonde-haired male said. "I'm short on cash, okay? I really need this right now. I'm willing to watch over that lighter for however long you need. I just need 200 euros."