Fire & Light

Fire & Light Part 8

Part 8: Unraveling

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the camp in hues of deep purple and gold. The tournament was over, but the echo of cheers still lingered in the air. Campers buzzed with excitement, recounting their victories and near-misses, but Damien couldn't shake the exhaustion settling deep in his bones.

He sat by the lake, his back against an old oak tree, his hand absently tracing the freshly healed skin along his side. Kika had done a flawless job, as always, but the ache wasn't just physical. It was something deeper. Something he wasn't sure how to put into words.

The sound of footsteps approaching pulled him from his thoughts. He didn't have to look up to know it was Kika. He could always tell when it was her—there was a quiet, steady rhythm to her steps, like she carried the weight of the sun with her wherever she went.

"Mind if I sit?" she asked, her voice soft but full of that familiar warmth.

Damien shook his head, not trusting himself to speak just yet. She lowered herself beside him, folding her legs under her as she settled into the grass. They sat in silence for a moment, the gentle lapping of the lake against the shore the only sound between them.

Kika leaned back against the tree, her shoulder brushing against his. It was such a simple touch, but it sent a wave of calm through Damien that he hadn't expected. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, taking in the way her dark curls framed her face, the last light of the sun catching the streak of yellow in her eyes. She was watching the water, her expression thoughtful, but there was something else there too. Worry, maybe. Or something deeper.

"You okay?" she asked after a beat, her voice barely above a whisper.

Damien nodded, though it was a lie. He wasn't okay. He hadn't been okay for a long time. But the words were stuck in his throat, tangled in the mess of everything he'd been keeping bottled up for years. He didn't know how to start, didn't know how to let her in without everything unraveling.

Kika didn't push. She just sat there, her presence a quiet invitation, letting him know it was safe to open up—if he wanted to.

He took a deep breath, his fingers curling into the dirt beneath him. "I almost lost it today," he muttered, the words rough and jagged as they left his mouth. "In the fight with Mattao. I wanted to hurt him. I could feel it—the fire—it was right there, and I didn't know if I could stop it."

Kika turned her head, her gaze steady on him. "But you did stop it, Damien. You had control."

"I don't know how much longer I can keep it up." He rubbed a hand over his face, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Every time I get into a fight, it's like... like something inside me just snaps. Like all I want is to destroy everything. And I can't turn it off."

She was quiet for a moment, her fingers idly tracing patterns in the grass beside her. "It's the fire," she said softly. "From Hephaestus."

Damien nodded, though it didn't make him feel any better. "Yeah. It's supposed to be a gift, right? But it feels more like a curse. I can't control it. I'm always angry, always on edge. And it's only getting worse."

Kika shifted, turning to face him fully now. Her hand found his, her fingers cool against his heated skin. "You're not a curse, Damien. And neither is the fire. It's a part of you, yes, but it doesn't define you."

He shook his head, his throat tightening. "You don't get it, Kika. My mom... she—" His voice broke, the memories surging to the surface, raw and painful. He tried to push them back down, tried to shove them into the box where he kept everything he didn't want to deal with. But they were slipping through his fingers, unraveling faster than he could stop them.

"She hurt me," he finally admitted, the words barely more than a whisper. "It wasn't on purpose. I know that. She didn't mean to. But she did. And after that... everything just went to hell."

Kika's hand tightened around his, her eyes wide and filled with a soft, heartbreaking understanding. "What happened?"

Damien swallowed hard, his chest tight. He hadn't told anyone this. Not in detail. But sitting here, with Kika's hand in his, the weight of it all felt too heavy to carry alone anymore.

"She was always... off. Erratic. She had these moments where she was herself—happy, creative, full of life. But after the accident, when she burned me, something in her broke. She couldn't deal with what she'd done. She just... fell apart."

He let out a shaky breath, his gaze dropping to the scar on his left cheek, a constant reminder of that day. "She got worse. She started drinking, lashing out. There were more burns, more scars. I couldn't stop her. And then one day, she snapped completely. The cops came, took her away. I haven't seen her since."

Kika didn't say anything. She just squeezed his hand, her thumb brushing over his knuckles in a steady, comforting rhythm. The silence between them was thick, heavy with all the things Damien had kept buried for so long. But it wasn't suffocating. It was... freeing, in a way. Like finally saying it out loud was lifting some of the weight off his chest.

"I'm sorry," Kika whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I didn't know."

Damien shook his head. "It's not your fault. None of it is."

"But you've been carrying it alone for so long." She shifted closer, her knee brushing against his. "You don't have to, Damien. Not anymore."

Her words sank into him, deeper than he expected. He didn't know how to respond, didn't know how to tell her that he wasn't sure he knew how to let anyone help him. But when he looked up, he found her eyes, full of that unwavering belief in him, that quiet strength she always seemed to carry.

And something inside him cracked. Not in the way it did when the fire took over, but in a way that felt... different. Like maybe, just maybe, he didn't have to be so afraid of letting someone in.

"I don't know how to do this," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kika's lips curled into a small, soft smile. "You don't have to know. We'll figure it out together."

Before Damien could say anything, she leaned forward, her hand still holding his as she pressed her lips softly to his cheek, just above the scar. It wasn't much, just a light, fleeting touch, but it felt like the first real spark of warmth that wasn't tied to the fire inside him.

When she pulled back, her gaze met his, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to fade. The lake, the tree, the noise of the camp in the distance—it all disappeared. It was just them.

And in that moment, Damien made a decision. He leaned in, slowly, hesitantly, but when his lips met hers, everything else fell away. Kika put her hands holding behind his head. Damien Softly holding her chin, finally treating this hole that he had in him. The kiss wasn't a fiery, desperate kiss. It was soft, tentative, filled with all the things he didn't know how to say yet.

After a few seconds they pulled apart, Kika smiled, her thumb brushing lightly over his cheek. "See? You're not alone anymore." Damien, still holding onto her face pulled her back in once again, and Kika clearly didn't mind.

For the first time, Damien felt save, he really believed her.

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We made it. Part 9 and 10 will hopefully be up soon. I wanted more of a build up but I think it was the right time. This is my first real small novel so like I said in like the first part, dont expect much.