Page 4 of Sun and Stone (Elementally Yours #5)

4. The Not-So-Cruel Light of Day

When it comes to last night, I only have one regret: leaving Fynn too early. I had to get up for my morning class.

I head to my apartment door afterwards, fumbling with my keys for a moment before finally getting the door unlocked. Thinking about the man I had to leave sooner than I liked, I grin. But when I push open the door and step inside, my grin vanishes.

Something feels off. The faint sound of clattering pots confirms it: someone’s in my apartment.

Oh no, this is not good at all.

I hear them rummaging around in the kitchen. An intruder? My heart hammers against my ribs, and time seems to slow down.

Think, Perry, think. My gaze darts around the cramped living room, searching for something, anything, that I can use to defend myself. Fortunately, being a rock caster means that an ideal weapon sits right there on my coffee table. A large slab of stone, a remnant of a rock-shaping class assignment—my perfect weapon.

Maybe I was crying on the street like a baby yesterday, but I'm not defenseless. With a silent command, I summon the stone to me. Warmth radiates from the rock token around my neck, hidden beneath my scarf, which helps me safely harness power. The stone rises, hovering beside me as it comes closer.

Stone floating silently at my side, I creep toward the kitchen. Clanging and rustling grow louder with each step. I round the corner, and my eyes fall on the intruder's back.

Okay, I knew I wasn't alone. But actually seeing someone else there makes me panic.

"AH!" With a flick of my wrist, I launch the stone at the intruder. It hurtles through the air, aimed directly at their head.

"Augh!"

The intruder spins around, a frying pan raised above their head just in time to deflect the stone. It clatters to the floor with a deafening crash.

"Perry! What the hell?"

Hey, I know that voice. I recognize that shaggy brown hair and partly tan and partly scaly skin. "Argyle?"

"Perry? Why are you trying to kill me?"

"I... uh..." I stammer, feeling more and more foolish as I stare at my best friend. "I thought you were an intruder?"

"Oh…" Argyle smiles sheepishly. "Realized I still had your spare key and decided to come check on you."

Touching the pendant around my neck, I release the magic now that the 'danger' has passed. The pendant is made of composite stones and acts as a token for safely channeling magic. Blessed by a rockbrand caster, it allows me to harness earth power without hurting myself while I try to earn my own brand. While the token may be losing its effectiveness, it’s still got some life left.

The brand is the goal. When an element finds us worthy and partners with us, we receive a brand or magical mark that ties us to our element forever and allows us to safely perform magic.

"Sorry," I say, then realize I need to be more specific. "Sorry about trying to kill you and sorry I didn't text you last night." He knew I was going for my test, and I was supposed to tell him how it went. I was supposed to tell him everything was fine and I had another year until the next routine visit.

But it didn't work out that way.

"When you weren't home, I figured… maybe you got bad news?"

"So you decided to make me breakfast?" I guess.

"Huh?" Argyle looks down to the frying pan still in his fist. "No, I decided to clean. You never clean when you're sad and I wanted to do something nice for you."

"Thanks, man."

Argyle, my half-nymph best friend, recently started building a life on the surface. He still has a spare key from crashing on my couch.

I head back into my living room and drop down onto the lumpy, well-worn cushions of my couch, letting out a long sigh as I lie there. Even with my eyes closed, I can feel him hovering over me.

"So, what happened?" Argyle asks.

"Ah, you know, the usual. Poked, prodded, and reminded that I'm not getting any younger. I need a brand, the sooner the better." I wave a hand dismissively, as if I'm discussing the weather and not the very real possibility of losing my magic forever. "Except this time, I'm getting a bit too close to the end. I'm running out of time. They need to see my beautiful face more often to make sure I'm not getting hurt."

"Perry, oh my god."

I keep my eyes closed so I miss the pity on his face, but I can still imagine the exact mix of sympathy and concern on my best friend's face. A second later, he kicks the couch.

"Make room for me or I'm going to sit on you."

With a sigh, I sit up, giving him room to join me on the couch. He reaches out, placing a gentle hand on my arm. "Oh, Per..." He sighs, and I can hear the sadness in his voice. "I'm so sorry. I know how much your magic means to you."

"Yeah, well, what can you do, right? It is what it is."

Argyle's frown deepens as he studies me, his gaze searching my face. "You don't have to pretend to be fine, you know."

"I'm not pretending," I say, realizing it's true. I'm not happy about my time running out, but I'm not about to have another meltdown either. "What I need most right now is a nap."

"Why are you even here?" he asks. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

I wince, burying my face in my hands. "...Skipped it."

"What?" His sea blue eyes go wide. "Perry, you can't give up. Not now, not when you're so close."

"We don’t know that I'm so close."

"We may not but I do," he insists in a tone that leaves no room for argument.

"Thanks, man." I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Look, I got up to go to my class. I even went in the building and then I just… didn't go in."

When I woke up way too early, I had every intention of going to class. I even left Fynn’s bed to make it to my morning class on time. We exchanged numbers, so it’s not like I was sneaking away never to see him again. I left a note on the hotel stationery too.

I wish I hadn’t bothered getting up. I wish I never left. I got all the way to campus, made it in time for class and everything, and then when I got in the building and turned onto the hallway where my class waited, I realized I had absolutely no desire to go any further. I just couldn't face class yet.

I wish I’d stayed in with Fynn and ordered hotel room service. We could have had breakfast in bed.

Argyle continues to scrutinize me. I can practically see the gears turning in his head as he tries to figure out what's really going on.

"Do you want to watch TV?" I suggest. "There's this new show—"

"No, there are a million new shows on a million channels and streaming services,” he interrupts before I can even finish. “How’s a nymph even supposed to know where to start?" Before I can answer, he shakes his head and points a finger at me. "What's the matter with you?"

"What? I think I'm handling the situation well, all things considered." No more crying on the street. That’s a win in my book.

"That's my point,” Argyle says. “Why aren't you screaming and throwing things? Why aren't you sobbing?"

"I'm a mature, evolved person who is taking all this in stride?" I try. I’m not a huge diva or drama queen, not by a long shot. My personality may be over the top at times, but I’ve always gravitated to the rock element for a reason. It helps ground me.

However, this is not a situation where I can be mature and evolved. I broke down yesterday, and if I hadn’t met Fynn, I’d probably still be in the middle of a meltdown. No wonder Argyle isn’t buying any of this.

Which makes it surprising when he doesn’t press me further. He only gets up and goes to the table shoved in the corner of my living room. It's supposed to be a dinner table but is usually a catch all for the stuff I'm too lazy to put in its proper place.

Argyle rummages through the clutter on my table, pulling out a small device that looks like a high-tech radar gun.

"What's that?" I ask, eyeing the gadget warily.

"A handheld ground-penetrating radar device," Argyle explains, carrying it over and placing it in my hands. "Samson knows a rock caster who had some issues with his powers in the past. He thought this might help you."

"Thanks… I’ll use it the next time I go spelunking."

Argyle gives me an unimpressed look. “The radar is magically modified.”

“Oh.” Should have guessed as much. Now I feel a little silly. I turn the device over, examining it closely. “What does it do?”

"It's designed to help wizards with earth and rock magic get a better sense of their powers. It’s kind of cute, right? A ground-penetrating device to inspect your magic, and you’re a ground caster. Get it?”

“So, it’s going to penetrate me? That sounds dirty.”

“It measures the strength of your powers and alerts when it detects something important. The device can detect the best times for you to cast and discover any untapped potential that may be what you're missing."

I fiddle with the thing for a few seconds before setting it down. "Guess I’ll give it a try."

"Meant for rockbrands but it's likely to pick up any power at first," he warns. "It attunes itself to you and your magic over time. Carry it with you until it syncs with you."

I nod and thank him. Guess it's worth a shot. I suppose I don't have much to lose at this point.

When I look up, he watches me with a smirk. Uh-oh. "Now are you ready to tell me what happened last night?"

"Uh…" Busted. I knew he wasn't going to let my zen behavior today go without an explanation.

"Spill it," he demands.

It feels too early to mention Fynn. I don’t even know if I’m going to see him again. There are parts of last night I haven’t even processed yet, namely all the parts related to magic. But Argyle will just keep pressing if he thinks I’m in denial or something.

"Okay, fine. I, uh... I met someone."

Argyle's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "You met someone?" he repeats, a grin spreading across his face. "Oh my god, what? That’s the last thing I expected to hear you say.”

“Yeah,” I laugh. “Me too.”

“Tell me everything.”

Giving him the gist, I fill my friend in on how I bumped into a handsome stranger who had been in the same position as me and he cheered me up. "It was the worst night of my life, but Fynn... he made it a little better, you know?"

"Are you going to see him again?" he wonders.

"I'm not sure." I flop back on my couch with a dramatic sigh, putting a hand over my face. It might be a one-night stand, but I hope not.

I already know I'd like to see him again.

But a million things could have changed in the light of day. We both wanted to sleep with each other last night. That doesn’t mean we want to continue seeing each other. Maybe he wants to be friends. Maybe he did a good deed last night and now he’s done being charitable.

I get out my phone, wondering if it’s too soon to send him a message. Turns out, he’s already messaged me.

Fynn: Hey, how was your morning class?

I just send him a few upset emojis, which sums up my thoughts on the matter.

Fynn: Seeing as we didn't get a chance to talk this morning, would you like to meet for breakfast or coffee? Do you have another class?

Perry: Yeah, but I made an executive that classes are cancelled today. Coffee sounds good.

I stand up from the couch and head towards the door. He has a key, so Argyle can let himself out.

"Hey, where are you going?" Argyle wonders.

"To answer your question, yes Fynn and I are going to see each other again."

"Oh, right now?"

"That’s the idea."

Argyle clears his throat. “I repeat, where do you think you’re going?"

“To meet him?” Didn't we just go over this?

"Without a shower or changing your clothes?" he asks.

Looking down at the rumpled clothes I wore yesterday, I wince. "Good point."

I turn on my heel and head to the shower instead. This isn't a date or anything. And my first impression was about as terrible as it gets and Fynn still associated with me.

Still, I have time for a quick shower. I'd rather look presentable when seeing Fynn again.

~

When you hook up with a stranger after a few drinks, there's no telling what will happen when you see them again in the light of day.

One thing I know for sure?

He's just as cute as I remember. His eyes look tired and not as bright as they had been last night, but his smile is as warm as ever.

"Hey," I greet as I stop in front of him.

"Hi," he replies shyly with a sweet smile. "You're not too hungover, are you?"

"No, not at all. I was drunk but still knew what I was doing last night."

"Good. I mean, yeah, me too… hi."

"Hey," I say again, giving him an awkward smile.

We stand there for a moment, the awkward silence stretching between us.

He's wearing a cute polo shirt, looking clean and smelling faintly of vanilla. There's almost no sign he was up late last night knocking back drinks. Meanwhile, my hair's still wet from my quick shower, and I can feel the bags under my eyes.

That’s when I notice where we’re standing: right in front of the crepe place. Fynn chose to meet up here. Oh no, not another one.

"Eating here is fine," I say, warning him, "but you have to promise me one thing: don't try to convert me to embrace the power of crepes and join the cult."

Fynn blinks at me in confusion. "Cult?"

"The food here is fine, but I have a friend who loves these crepes and insists that everyone else loves them too."

"How can you not love them?" he wonders earnestly. "The crepes here are delicious—"

I cut him off with a mock stern look. "What did I just say? Not joining the cult."

Raising his hands in surrender, Fynn grins. "Okay, okay." Then he admits sheepishly, "Actually, I just picked here because I like their coffee."

I feel my cheeks flush slightly at the realization that I've been the one going on about crepes this whole time. "Oh... coffee is fine," I mumble, suddenly feeling awkward again.

Fynn's eyes seem to dance with silent laughter. My gaze drifts down to his lips, full and slightly parted, and I can't help but remember how they felt pressed against my own last night...

Nope, we have to talk first.

I order an extra strong coffee, having a feeling I’ll need it to get through today. Once we get our drinks, we sit outside in the fresh air. We both take our time, relaxing and enjoying the nice day and our coffees before we get into it, the ‘so we slept together. Now what?’ conversation.

I don't regret a single thing that happened. Fynn is kind, attentive, and undeniably attractive. I'm glad our paths crossed, even if the circumstances that brought us together were less than ideal. I just hope he feels the same way.

"So," Fynn says, breaking the silence. "How are you feeling this morning?"

I consider the question for a moment. "Better, actually. Waking up next to you helped." I give him a sheepish smile. "And the coffee is doing its job too."

"I'm glad. I was a little worried you might be regretting... you know."

"Not at all." I reach across the table, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Last night was exactly what I needed."

"What about things with magic? How are you doing there?" he wonders.

"Your guess is as good as mine," I laugh. “I must be doing well, so well my best friend is worried about me."

"Are you bragging about that?" he wonders skeptically.

"Guess not." That didn’t come out right. Laughing sheepishly, I take a long drink of my coffee. I find myself admitting, "Honestly, I felt so much closer to branding when I was first starting out."

"Think all casters do,” he offers. “Hoping it comes soon." We can brand as soon as we turn 18. But the elements rarely offer a test that soon.

“True, but I don’t know.” Maybe I was an overconfident kid. It didn’t feel that way though. “Thought the only thing I was missing was some more skill and experience. Back when I first started college, it seemed like one day or the next I’d wake up and my test would arrive. Now I’ve learned so much. My powers are more advanced, and I’ve had all kinds of experiences. So why do I feel farther away than ever?"

As a gust of wind ruffles my hair, I hold my coffee cup a little tighter. I'm not cold but the warmth is comforting. "Now I wonder if I was ever close at all. Maybe it’s always been out of reach.”

When I was 20 and eager for magic and everything the world had to offer, I was a busy co-ed with an active social life. Doing drag, making new friends, working a bunch of odd jobs. My brand seemed so close, but maybe I'd just been overconfident and naive.

"That's the annoying thing about magic,” Fynn says. “You have to believe in yourself, have to believe it will happen because belief matters in magic. But the longer you go, the harder it is to hope. If only some of the extra confidence we all have at the beginning could be saved and used now."

"Yeah. Now I’m one magical side effect away from The Danger Zone.” Which brings potions to prolong the inevitable. There used to be scientific, clinical terms used to define the end stages of a novice caster’s relationship with magic, but the unofficial nicknames stuck and now are used widely. Like The Danger Zone, which is so much less fun than the song. It’s a ticking clock, the beginning of the end. “I may not become a wizard. I could lose all the magic I do have. What do I do now?"

"That’s up to you. Just know you’re not alone,” he promises. “I’ve been there and navigated all this myself. I’m here for you."

Of all the people I could have met last night, how did I bump into a literal saint? "You know you don’t have to help me, right? We just met."

“All that means is that you haven’t been my friend for very long,” he reasons with a bright smile. “You’re still my friend now. I want to help."

Nodding, I sip my coffee to cover the grimace on my face. Friends isn't exactly what I was hoping for.

Covering my reaction does not work. “Unless you’re not interested in my assistance?” Fynn wonders. “You don’t need to be polite. If you’d rather part ways—"

“No,” I say. “No, it’s not that…”

Last night, I met a gorgeous man who mesmerized me and not only took my mind off my worries, he made everything so much less worrisome. I stopped stressing about my wizarding future and was more interested in watching him drink a mudslide.

We also had some great sex, and I went to bed with a smile on my face.

It did feel like the start of something, just not friendship.

"Friends,” I say gingerly. “Is that what we’re going to be?"

“Uh, yeah. I guess we need to discuss this. Friends is what we should be,” he says gently but firmly. “Having fun is fine, but the timing isn’t right for anything else. You’re at the start of what’s going to be a major life change either way."

"You’re right. That makes sense. Except it almost feels like I was meant to bump into you."

"Actually, I agree." His expression softens, a smile appearing on his face. "I like thinking there’s a reason we bumped into each other. That everything I went through as a caster and then as a failed wizard can help you now. But starting something romantic at a time like this isn’t the best idea."

"Yeah, I get it." With my whole life up in air, this isn't the best time for romance. “Guess we met at the right time and wrong time.”

"Something like that," Fynn says. "Come on, don't pout. You know I’m right."

"Do I?"

"Aren’t rockbrands supposed to be sensible?" he points out.

I place a hand over my heart, feigning hurt. "Ouch, using my magic against me."

Most people are surprised at my choice of magic. They think I must be the free and breezy air type or water with my flowing, bubbly personality.

Instead, I like knowing I have solid ground under my feet. Rock is my sensible side. Not always shown but there in my back pocket to see me through.

So, he's right. I can tell he's making a good argument. But a stupid sentimental part of me notices that Fynn's one of the few people who aren't surprised that I'm chasing after rock magic. The bright, cheerful guy being drawn to sun magic is so obvious, so how does he understand my choice?

I think he just understands me. We just met and he already has a better sense of who I am than most.

"It’s not a hardship to be your friend Perry," he says. "I think we’ll get along well. And trust me, I’ve been here before. This isn't the right time for anything more than casual. Asking for commitment will only end up hurting one or both of us in the long run."

It's clear he isn't going to budge on this. Maybe this is another thing he's learned from experience. And just because I have a good feeling about him, this probably isn’t the best time to jump headfirst into anything. Friends it is.

"Casual," I say. "I’m up for it if you are.”

He smiles. “I’m willing to give it a try.”

Being his friend with benefits is better than being nothing at all. Fynn stands up from the table, gathering our empty coffee cups and taking them to the trash.

Something buzzes in my pants pocket. My phone is my first guess, but it sits still on the table. I take out the handheld radar, watching it vibrate and light up. The screen shows a spike of activity, obviously picking up on something.

Is my magic really strong when I visit average crepe restaurants? Does the radar like my outfit?

Probably not. Okay, think more logical and less absurd.

Did I do anything different today? There’s skipping class and meeting a boy. Maybe. Maybe a good thing in my personal life helps me emotionally and strengthens my magic in turn.

Of course, I’m not even sure the radar is responding to me. Argyle said it may take a while to sync up to me. It could have alerted to someone walking down the street. Or Fynn.

No. He’s bound. I think. When we first met, I wasn't sure if his trick with the glitter was real magic or not. But given everything he told me in the bar, his powers must be bound. So the radar isn't responding to him. Hmm.

Maybe it’s a fluke. Some kind of random interference or glitch? I frown at the radar, running my thumb along the smooth casing as I try to make sense of what just happened.

The only thing I know for sure is that it definitely seemed to be reacting to something - but what?

Guess time will tell. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. Probably.