Simon Snow is going to die kissing me.
I break away from him, his lips still leaning into mine as I pull away. I pick my wand up off of the ground and spring to my feet.
The flames are everywhere, spreading out in every direction. I don't know which way is which and all I can feel is the heat. What have I done?
"Make a wish!" I scream, again and again and again. But my magic just seems to feed the flames. They fill the branches of the trees, creating a roof of fire over us.
Snow is standing in front of me now, hands on my chest, pushing every ounce of magic he can into me, and I'm pushing it right back out through my words.
"Make a wish! Make a wish! Make a wish!"
"Water under the bridge! Come hell or high water! Please!"
The whole world is on fire. I look into Snow's eyes and see the flames reflected in them. "I'm sorry," I whisper, tears falling onto my cheeks. These flames weren't meant for him.
I should have known. I should have realized that he would come in after me. That he would refuse to leave. That he would try to save me, like he saves everyone else, regardless of how much he hates them.
It wasn't supposed to happen like this.
All I want now is to cast a spell to get him out of here. To save him for once. But the flames are too thick, and I am flammable.
And then I'm on the ground. And Snow is covering me, pressing me into the forest floor, covering every part of my skin with his own, shielding me.
And he's going off, but not like every other time. He's going supernova, and I'm so close to him I'm sure I'll be incinerated before the flames even reach me. Everywhere his skin is touching mine I can feel myself burning.
Magic is pouring off of Snow in waves and my eyes are closed because he's too bright and I always said he was the sun and I always knew how this would end.
And then it's over.
We don't move. Not for a long time. And then slowly, Snow rolls off of me onto his back. And he screams.
I bolt upright and pull Snow onto me so he's lying on his stomach, head cradled in my lap. What's left of his shirt falls away in a pile of ash as I move him.
The skin on his back is red and raw. Blisters are already starting to form over the burns. It doesn't look like a back. It doesn't look like his back. And I know Snow's back quite well after all these years of sharing a room, quickly glancing up in the 2 seconds he had his shirt off while he was changing, then quickly looking down and trying to look as disgusted by him as ever.
It doesn't look like a back. It looks like a slab of meat.
I reach out slowly to touch him. He flinches away at first, but I'm muttering heeling magic under my breath, tracing the already-forming scars and slowing sealing them up.
He relaxes against my touch and then goes limp in my arms. He's unconscious.
I pull him closer and keep muttering spells.
When I'm done I just hold him.
I always knew this would end in flames. But I never thought they would be my flames. I almost killed him. I still might have killed him.
"I'm so, so sorry, Simon."
