Gold Fever (m×m) ✔

XIX: Deep-fried by thunderbolt

《 ELIAN PHOENIX 》

That night, I wasn't the one left outside while the others cuddled up in the tent. Much like she had as we walked through those mangled hotel doors, Najwa held my hand all the way back to the camp. When we made it there, Rio was up and greeted us with a drowsy, but genuinely pleased smile.

It was dark inside the tent, but we didn't need to see much to lie down and turn on our sides to face each other. There was just enough light that I could make out Najwa's expression, tender but lined with exhaustion. She reached out and brushed her fingertips along the hollow of my cheek, making me wonder how her face could still have some healthy roundness in it while mine was all hollowed out and bony.

"You don't look too good." Najwa complained, like she was noticing it for the first time. Perhaps I had started to look noticeably worse in just a matter of days, while she had avoided looking at me.

"I'm as dashing as ever." I offered her a grin, which earned me a playful smack on the shoulder. With a sigh, I explained: "I've been trying to come up with ways to bring Birdy back, but nothing seems to happen and the magic is doing something to my body."

"Rio said it makes you hungry." Najwa spoke it as if she was thinking out loud. Then she grimaced. "Did you eat anything after I.. you know?"

"It's fine, we can just have a big breakfast." I reassured her. My stomach was aching for food, but right then I was too tired to even think about getting up and having to chew something. "So.. What was the theory?"

"Oh, it was stupid." Najwa huffed, crunching up her face. As I waited in silence, still very much wanting to know the answer, Najwa explained: "His dad told him that if you died, it would eviscerate your magic."

"It would return everyone to life? And bring back the money?" I breathed. "Do you think it would work?"

"Okay, first of all, you're not going to get killed over some theory." Najwa stressed, leveling a gaze at me that told me she wasn't fooling around with the idea. "And, secondly, like I asked that fool: what is his dad, a prophet?"

The funny thing is that if you had asked me yesterday or just a couple of hours ago, I would have gladly given my life if there was even a slight chance of it bringing back Birdy and all the other people. In all honesty, I would have called it a relief to be rid of this world and the unbearable guilt weighing on my shoulders. 

But now, being huddled in the tent with my friend, who didn't want me dead, I wanted to keep my crappy life. I wanted to hold onto it until my fingers bled and my muscles burned with lactic acid. I wanted Birdy to have plenty of reasons to be proud of me when she came back to us.

"You didn't, like, consider it?" I asked, examining Najwa's face which was covered in shadows. "If it brought Birdy back, then would you want it?"

"Phoenix, what the fuck?" Najwa snapped and rose up to her elbows, glaring at me with wide eyes. "And then what, to have mom hating me forever for murdering her favorite painting buddy? She'd rather stay frozen into a statue for a millennia than pay for her life with someone else's. You know that, come on."

"I love your mom." I whispered, a small smile tucking up the corners of my mouth. Najwa let out a giggle, and as she wasn't the giggling type, she slapped a hand to cover her mouth.

"I know." She said then, and plopped back on her side, snuggling comfortably against my chest. 

I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close, which led to a position that would have been rather intimate if I had been any less gay and if Najwa had not been so repulsed with the idea of sex. As it were, all that proximity gave us was warmth and comfort. I started to feel drowsy, and let my eyelids flutter shut just for a fraction of a moment.