It was a quiet winter night, so late that the busy streets of Vesuvia lay empty. Asra fumbled with his keys, hands shaking from the cold. He hadn't packed warmly enough, despite his apprentice's constant reminders. She was ever practical, like she always was, even before everything that had happened.
It had been a few years now, since she lost her memory. Asra's cowardice was to blame. And now, all he could do was stand back and watch as she grew back into the great magician she once was; without Asra by her side this time. At least, not in the same way.
He finally found the right key and unlocked the heavy door. The iron knob and hinges were stiff with age; one more thing around the shop that needed to be fixed. He opened and closed it slowly, keeping as quiet as possible. He could only imagine that his apprentice was asleep at this hour.
Asra removed his feathered hat as he entered the living space, shaking out his fluffy, white hair like a dog. He saw that he was correct- Eleanor had fallen asleep on the couch, probably waiting for him. Asra couldn't imagine what he'd done to deserve such loyalty.
El hailed from the luscious, rainy southwest, and it showed. She was very fair-complected, tall, and strong like her warrior ancestors. Her hair spilled across the couch like molten gold; untouchable.
Her blue and green skirts were disheveled, exposing one leg almost all the way up to her hip. Asra swallowed hard at the sight of her thigh, curving along into her womanly hips and slight waist. He recalled the silky feeling of her skin as he looked away. Years ago, he'd been a slave to that body. He supposed he still was.
How many times had she woken him in the wee hours of the morning, years ago, pressing against him, his needs rising to meet hers? How many lazy mornings did they linger in bed, hiding from the rush of the world? How many stolen touches, careless kisses, and ravenous looks has passed between them, now only a dream?
He pulled the blanket from his own bed and brought it back to cover El. As he draped the blanket over her form, he was careful not to touch her.
She was starting to stumble across more memories, still not enough to remember Asra fully. The last time they spoke, she mentioned a summer picnic in a forest clearing. She remembered the warm breeze, the feeling of the young grass, the blue sky full of perfect white clouds.
Asra, too, remembered the feeling of the grass. He specifically remember how it felt on his back, the sweet smell of El's hair as she kissed his neck, and they way she tasted. Mostly, he recalled that look in her eyes. Oh that look; how it always burned right through him.
He stepped backwards, lost in his memories, and the floorboard creaked.
"Asra," El murmured, sending a tingle down his spine. Her voice was heavy with sleep.
"Go back to sleep, El," he told her.
El opened her eyes and looked up at him. They were grey as a stormy ocean.
"I didn't mean to wake you," he whispered. "Go back to sleep."
"I want to hear about your trip," she replied as she sat up, hair a mess of waves. "Sit!"
He sat beside her, leaving a careful distance between them. It was for the same reason that he constantly traveled; the more distance there was between he and El, the less likely it was that he would do something stupid.
"Well?" She prodded, stifling a yawn.
"I went north, to the great prairies," he replied.
"It must've been sunny, you look even tanner."
"Do I?"
El held out her arm and placed it beside his, comparing skin tones. "I wish I could get darker, you've got great skin."
God, why was everything in life so hard?
"Well, you are from the south, I imagine it can't be helped," Asra replied.
He remembered the first time they met, many years ago. It was a rainy night, Asra was wrestling with a pair of thugs, trying to take his purse. El heard the commotion from further up the road and came running, astride a massive grey stallion. She was hooded, and covered in furs that made her look bulkier. She was young, but already a well trained sorceress.
She practically leapt from the back of her horse, eyes ablaze with magical light, brandishing a wooden stuff. Her magical aura was so powerful it was intoxicating. Asra's assailants fled immediately. El watched them go, as if she was considering a pursuit.
She removed her hood and the light from her eyes faded. Asra's breath was taken away at the sight of her. She spoke the him in her native tongue at first; only slightly out of breath. It was a sing-songy language that sounded lovely on her low voice.
"I don't understand," Asra said.
"I said," she had replied in heavily accented Vesuvian, "Are you alright?"
El leaned back into the cushion, and Asra came back to the present. "I guess not. Why the prairie?"
"Remember a week ago, there was a meteor shower?"
El's eyes widened, she smiled enthusiastically. "You went after the big one we saw?"
El usually had quiet, cool demeanor. It made her smiles all the more enchanting.
"I did."
"Did you find it?"
Asra sighed and turned to face her. "No, I think someone else got there first."
"Oh, that's a shame."
"Well," Asra said finally, standing back up. "I should let you go back to sleep."
"Wait," El implored, gripping his arm. "You're never home anymore, stay awhile, talk with me. I miss you these days."
Asra's heart skipped a beat, and reluctantly, not reluctantly enough, he sat back down. "I suppose we can, a bit longer."
When he looked at El, just for a second, a familiar hunger passed over her face. It frightened him.
"Did you have a good day?" he asked softly, feeling weak.
El, still holding his arm, pulled it across her shoulders and tucked in her feet, curling against Asra's chest. She was dangerously warm and temptingly soft.
"I'll tell you all about it," she began.