Farid has never understood people who fear fire.
When handled improperly, it can be a dangerous, destructive, and possibly even deadly force of nature. It can send entire buildings up in flames if treated incorrectly. It can make forests disappear, leaving only ashes and burnt wood in its path. It can peel off human skin, blacken and destroy it, but only if it's out of human control.
It can also be beautiful. It can dance for you and sing for you if you feed it just enough to keep living and nothing more. It can make shadows dance across cavern walls in eerie shapes, it can send warmth up your spine, only if you treat it with respect.
Farid has tried again and again to control it, make it beautiful, but always ends up with blistered fingertips and burnt palms.
Dustfinger, however, can do things with it that no living creature should have the ability to do. He can allow it to roll across the tips of his fingers. He can breathe it. He can even swallow it unscathed by its intensive heat.
Farid learns from him, tries to understand the languages of the fire, the whispers of the flames. He fails. He always fails.
Because he is distracted by the sheer beauty of something completely different.
Dustfinger's face is one that is handsome, terrifyingly good-looking, and scarred beautifully to reveal only a portion of his many battles. His hair falls gently over his shoulders, that light brownish-red that Farid is sure mustn't be a real color. Farid has tried to grow his hair out, imitate that look of experience, but he is too young still.
Dustfinger's voice is also worn, rough and cracked and beautiful in its own unique ways. Mostly bitter and tired, other times soft and affectionate, Farid is always amazed by Dustfinger's many voices. He wishes that he had a voice like that, forever changing, but his voice remains small and cowardly, sounding younger than his years.
He hates not being able to relate. He hates not being able to press himself up against Dustfinger and breathe in that smoke-and-matches scent, that scent unique to only him.
He hates not being able to admit his unrequited love and adoration.
Farid has never understood people who fear fire.
But he understands love all too well.