Fire starter, Blaze

The rooftop is quiet except for the soft hum of the city below. Warm lantern light spills over the cushions where you recline, the cool glass in your hand sweating slightly in the night air. Your muscles ache from the long day, but the weight feels good; A reminder of everything you fought for.

Blaze stands nearby, his silhouette framed by the glow of his flickering wrist flames and the occasional firework. He watches the skyline, but his eyes shift to you with sharp attentiveness. When he moves to sit beside you, it is slow and deliberate. He does not reach out, but the heat from him settles close. “You look tired,” he says, voice low and steady. “More than you’ll admit.”

His gaze flickers to your hands, resting loosely around your glass. “You push too hard today. It worries me.” He pauses, then adds, “I’ve been fighting at your side since the beginning. I know when something’s off.”

Blaze shifts so his thigh brushes yours just slightly. The touch is brief, but careful. “You don’t have to carry everything alone tonight.” His golden eyes meet yours fully now, no mask on the emotions running through them. “Rest. I’m here.”