Gold Fever (m×m) ✔

XXIII: No rash decisions

《 ELIAN PHOENIX 》

When I rubbed my chin, its roughness made me snatch back my hand like I had just touched a hot stove. I had shaved only some days ago, so the only conclusion I could come up with was that the magic somehow sped up the process. Especially as my hair had gone through a similar growth spurt. 

Not just that, I was gaining muscle mass at the speed of a weightlifter on steroids, despite the lack of exercising. My jeans were still baggy, but they no longer fell right through. If I continued getting stronger at this rate, I would be a Hulk by the time I had advanced my magic to the healing Gold fever level. 

In just a week, I was going to be able to defeat Aspen like he was a fly and I was a fly swatter. Not that I would kill a fly, they're just harmless little bugs. Anyhow, having that kind of strength was some seriously heady shit.

Only it came with a negative side effect: I slept a lot. I woke up in the morning, did some magic, took an early afternoon nap, did some more magic, took a late afternoon nap and so on, until it was dark and time for a good night's sleep. Half the time I didn't realize I was falling asleep, and the dreams mixed with reality. That was disorienting to say the least, but otherwise I didn't mind about leaving insomnia in the past.

That is why I thought I was dreaming, when I felt something sharp pressing against my stomach and a familiar minty scent engulfing me. When I opened my eyes, I couldn't believe how vivid a person I could dream of. 

"Ouch, is that a knife?" I complained, my voice sounding rough and deep from the sleep, and the person let go. The pain went away.

"No, it's not a knife." Najwa hissed, her mouth a grim line and eyebrows knitted together in a deep, disapproving frown. She patted the front of her shirt and the straps of her backpack, until she identified the sharp object as the clip of the sternum strap. When she slumped to sit on the porch next to me, all I could read from her demeanor was relief.

I was about to ask Najwa if she was really here, when I spotted movement from the corner of my eye. Rain had stopped walking so abruptly that Rio bumped into his backpack, causing them both to sway on their feet. But all Rain's attention was fixed on me as the widest grin I had ever seen on him overtook his features. 

"You're alive." He breathed, with eyes so wide I was afraid they would pop out of his eye sockets, and skipped the steps in his hurry to get to me. 

I was too dumbfounded to perceive that my friends were actually there, let alone steel myself for any possible reaction they would have now that they had found me. I certainly wasn't expecting for Rain to throw himself on me with enough force to send us rolling on the porch. Not to strangle me to death for the stunt I had pulled, but to squeeze his arms around me like he had thought he was never going to see me again.

"Of course." I muttered and then patted his back. "I can't breathe."

"Well, that's too bad." Rain huffed, but obediently loosened his grip on me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, as Rain let go of me and sat on the porch on the other side of Najwa. Rio was yet to say a word, but they smiled at me in a way that reassured me they weren't angry. Only, it wasn't them I was worried about.

"What do you think?" Rain demanded, not unkindly. He crossed his arms over his chest, as if needing to shield himself from my answer.

I examined my friends' sweat streaked faces and rumpled clothes. To have them there was surrealistic, too good to be true. But was I capable of creating such an elaborate scene in my head? I could make out the hollows of Rio's cheeks, the grime on their billowy light gray shirt. The bloody stubs left of Rain's fingernails, even the light wrinkles on his forehead. Najwa's hands fiddling with the frayed hem of her shirt..