Sadie had just poured herself a cup from her tea pot when she heard footsteps. Caden entered right as she seated herself at the kitchen table.

  "How'd it go?” she asked.

  "Not too bad,” he replied. “I'm sure you know how your uncle is."

  Sadie nodded. "There's tea if you like. Chamomile and mint, just finished steeping.”

  "Healer, thou mak'st me merry,” he flashed her a grin.

  She rolled her eyes. "Not the British accent again."

  Caden bowed in response as he made his way towards the teapot.

  A few moments later, he sat down across from her, setting the mug down on the kitchen table.

  Sadie looked up at his face for a moment. His grin seemed weaker than usual. “You sure you're alright?"

  Caden hesitated. "Yeah. It's just... My staff needs to be sent off for testing if I'm going to use it in the field. Deflector said it might take a week."

  "We have weapons in storage. Bo staff, baton, whichever you prefer. Uncle Gabriel won't let you fall behind in training."

  “Good to know,” he hesitated like he had something else to say. "How's school going?" he asked after a moment.

  Sadie sighed and gestured vaguely to her things. A notebook, pencils, and a few highlighters in various colors were scattered around a tablet. "It's my final year so... bit intense.”

  Caden nodded. "I'll, uh, let you focus then."

  Sadie didn't need his distraction right now, but she didn't exactly want him to go either. She relaxed as Caden placed an earbud in and sat quietly while she worked.

  It couldn't have been more than a few minutes when Sadie heard a clatter.

  "Ugh. I think I need a towel."

  Sadie's head snapped up as he set the cup upright. His shirt now featured a large spill across the front. Images ran through her head. Blisters. Peeling skin. Her failure to heal his wrist.

  Soon she was out of her seat, crossing the distance between them with the speed of a trained field healer.

  “Hey, healer, what are you doing? I'm fireproof, remember? Just… wet."

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “That wasn't fire, Caden. That was boiling hot tea."

  Her hands were already reaching for the hem of his shirt. "Off?"

  Caden blinked. "Yes.”

  He froze as she gently pulled the fabric away from his skin, checking for resistance that would mean it was stuck to him. She found none, so her hands guided his arms through his sleeves. She proceeded to pull it up and over.

  Sadie examined his skin for signs of injury. It was unaffected. There wasn't even any redness.

  "It didn't scald me," Caden said, voice a notch higher than usual.

  "I can see that now," she murmured, embarrassed. "Sorry, I panicked."

  She pushed the wet shirt into his hands like a peace offering. His fingers curled around it as her eyes finally landed on the ink curling across his left collarbone.

  Five words, split across three lines. Overly flourished serif letters, as bold and dramatic as its wearer. Beneath them was a more delicate arrow pointing inward.

  "I didn't know you had a tattoo," she said, curious.

  A slow smile curved his lips as he recovered. "You're staring."

  "I'm not!" Her face warmed as she looked away. "I just can't read it."

  "You are," he teased. "Your cheeks are the hottest thing in the room right now. Not even kidding. Heat sense doesn't lie. You’re practically glowing."

  Sadie grabbed her notebook, pressing it in front of her face like a shield. "Shut up."

  "Is it me?” He continued anyway. “Am I just that devastatingly handsome?"

  "Why's it pointing to your heart?" she blurted in an attempt to change the subject.

  "Just a breakup tattoo. Peak drama. Don't worry about it."

  Sadie lowered her notebook to look at him again.

  "O, that way madness lies," she said quietly, her voice softening as she finally deciphered the antique-style script. "That's Shakespeare, isn't it?"

  Caden's gaze dropped to his lap. His fingers brushed across the tattoo absently, tracing the arrow's path inward.

  Sadie waited, but he didn't meet her eyes.

  "King Lear," he finally said. His voice was less light than usual. "It’s a warning label. And a reminder."

  She didn't like where this was going. "Caden-"

  "I wear people down, Sadie," he said, his tone still airy, like he was telling a joke. "I'm too much. Always have been. I talk too loud, push too far. I drive people crazy. You'll get tired of me eventually."

  He grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes. "So… yeah. It’s for anyone who gets close enough to look. But mostly for myself."

  Silence stretched between them. Sadie's hand reached forward as if to touch him, but she hesitated. Too soon.

  "You do drive me crazy," she finally admitted. "But it's- it's a good crazy. And you're not too much, Caden. Not from what I've seen."

  Caden lightly grabbed her hand before her fingers could decide whether to cross the distance. She didn't pull away. He pulled it to his lips as if to kiss the back of her hand.

  Instead, he paused just short. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment before she pulled her hand away.

  “I'll find a towel to clean this up,” she said. “You go get changed.”

  “Good plan,” he said as he turned towards the hallway, his voice recovering back to that familiar half-joking tone. “Maybe I'll go for one as red as new-enkindled fire. You know, to match your cheeks.”

  Sadie exhaled, half in amusement and half in exasperation. She wasn't sure what to do with this new information, so she simply filed it away for now.