The fire that ignites, The Fire That Insights

"Anyway, happy anniversary!"

Michael grabbed a kitchen towel to cover the bread with as he hurried back to the table. He knew Alex would be home any second.

Home. Here. He'd be coming home to Michael any second, like he had been every day for the last year. Michael gripped the towel tighter as he walked over to the romantic dinner he had painstakingly set up with candles and flowers. He'd hesitated on the cliche anniversary dinner, wanting to take Alex to a bar for a performance of a local band, but Isobel had told him to put in the extra effort.

Michael's trembling hands belied his attempts to calm himself down. He tried to convince himself this was just like any other night, any of the nights from the previous year that had been...

Michael fought nausea as he thought about the previous year. It had been, perfect. They had their explosive fights, and even more passionately aggressive make-up sex. Michael would always be self destructive, this he knew about himself. However, he was still working on learning the part about marriage where Alex would always be there to fight with and for, that he would never look away again. Michael had a life of people letting him down and leaving him. The first thought he had every morning the month after they were married was that he was going to roll over to Alex's wedding ring on his night stand. And every morning he'd have to fight the gut instinct before he opened his eyes that said he didn't even deserve a note. That he just deserved to be left behind.

The glint of his own ring in the candlelight caught his attention. He'd rather take a knife to the gut than take it off. Being married to Alex had been the best thing to ever happen to him. He had a warm bed to sleep in and a shower that he'd had long enough to figure out how to get the exact temperature that made him sigh in relief as it hit his sore muscles. He had a kitchen that he never had to worry about being empty. He had a roof that wasn't attached to a rust bucket truck. He had a house, a home, but most importantly he had Alex. He used to stare at the stars searching for home lightyears away when when it was just going to be something years in the making. Nothing in the universe mattered to him as much as Alex coming home to him.

There was an abrupt loud knock at the door.

He had locked it so Alex wouldn't barge in while he was setting up, but Michael's irritation spiked at the unexpected intrusion. Alex wouldn't knock. He carelessly threw the towel on to the table and hurried to the door. He unlocked it with his telekinesis as he stalked forward before whipping it open. A scathing comment died on his tongue as he took in Isobel's frantic state.

"Isobel..."

She smiled weakly and overtly fake. She brushed past him and stalked into his house. "Hi Michael. We might want to sit down for th-" Her eyebrows rose in concern. "Is that fire?"

Michael huffed and closed his eyes for a moment as well as the door. He followed her path through the house while speaking, "Actually they're called candles. People light them when they're trying to be romantic. You know on an anniver-" Michael's mouth dropped open in shock. "That's fire."

He took in the scene of his carefully orchestrated dinner literally going up in flames. The towel he threw must've knocked over a candle with it on its way to the rolls, which were currently desperately trying to become lumps of charcoal.

He rushed in and grabbed the alight towel and began patting the flames. "Shit! Care to help Isobel?!"

Isobel grabbed a pitcher of ice water and threw it on to the smoldering buns and coincidentally drowning his marsala pork chops.

He threw down the towel in frustration.  "I meant in a way other than ruining the dinner that took me two hours, Is." He drug his sooty hands down his face in defeat.