She knows there is no 'them.'
Just having to think it annoys Bloom, because thinking it is ridiculous. Of course there isn't a them; there has never been a them. And there won't be. The original reasoning still rings in her head; keep Baltor alive as the only other person from Sparx. And even though that wasn't true anymore, she couldn't just throw him aside. Not after a year of not trying to take over the world and helping her. It had to count for something - a very little something, but a something, none the less. And that still didn't make the two of them a them. Because it's just too crazy to think about.
Something's different though. Bloom knows that much. A tiny little voice in the back of her head tells her she should worry about that.
She doesn't.
"Must we do this?"
Bloom glances over her shoulder, walking further out to the center of the roof. It's dark and surprisingly cool in London, the sky a shade of grey warranting an oncoming summer storm. "I need to see how far you've come with regaining your magic. You're sort of my responsibility, after all."
Baltor looks unamused at the comment, and goes over to the ledge, standing far enough away that he has to crane his neck to see the street, twelve floors down. "I hope you're ready to be severely disappointed, in that case."
"You can't be that rusty."
"It's not that I'm rusty," he makes air quotes around the word, and Bloom smirks. "It's that aside from quick bursts of magic, I can't do much else. Advanced spells are still mostly inaccessible to me."
"How advanced are we talking?"
He sighs and waves his hand, and a fireball appears. The color is a darker red, not the blue it used to possess. Bloom can feel the energy in the air; it's decent, but weaker than she's used to as far as Baltor's concerned. They lock eyes for a moment, and something in them must be surprised, because he gives a small huff of annoyance. The fireball dissipates.
"Spells are easier," he says, "but bursts of magic like that are...difficult to keep up for extended periods of time."
Bloom takes note of the tone of his voice and his eyes on the horizon and not her. "Wait a second, are you...embarrassed because of that?"
She sees his eyes widen.
"You are! You totally are!"
He scoffs, and the dark look on his face makes the smile fall off hers. "Thank you, for reminding me," his voice has an angry tone to it as he stalks past her to the other end of the roof. "As if you defeating me single handedly and taking my power wasn't degrading enough."
"Well gee, if I remember correctly you told me you didn't want to die."
"And I also told you I didn't want your pity."
"It's not pity!"
"Then what would you refer to it as?"
Bloom opens her mouth, then closes it. "I...I don't know! Concern!"
"Concern for me? That's rich."
She crosses her arms over her chest. "I thought we were past this."
Baltor chuckles, turning back to face her. "And just what are we past, Bloom? Attempting to kill each other? Being enemies? You expect me to believe you've forgotten all that?"
"Of course I haven't forgotten that! But do you think I'd come around so much if I still thought you were going to try and kill me?" she snaps.
"Then pray tell, my dear, if we're not enemies and you don't use me as a personal history book, what are we?"
The sarcasm in his tone makes her snap. Before she can think about it she throws out her hand and sends a fireball towards him. Standing on the edge of a twelve-story building. With limited magic.
Her eyes widen and she starts to yell, but he's already half-facing her. Bloom watches Baltor's eyes widen, and he steps to the side and throws his hand out.
The fireball changes course, slowing and going right into his hand. Baltor's fist closes around it, and the magic dissipates. Bloom feels it leave her proximity, and knows it means Baltor's absorbed it. A few stray ashes fall to the ground.
They stare at each other for a few seconds. Thunder rumbles in the distance.
Bloom breaks first, swallowing and forcing her posture to go back to relaxed from a battle stance. "I...um...I didn't know you could still do that."
"...Yes. Well that makes two of us." Baltor's outstretched arm slowly falls back to his side.
"You absorbed it?"
"Yes."
"Do you -"
"Yes," he says again before she can finish. "I feel it. It's stronger magic than I have."
Her mouth closes. "Your magic is red."
Baltor raises an eyebrow at her. "What?"
"Your magic. When we used to, or, when we fought before, it was blue. It's red now. It's...interesting."
She watches him exhale. "Your fairy dust erased the Ancestresses dark magic in me. That included their power, which I often relied on. All I have left is light magic; Earth provides little of the other kind on account of its lack of wizards and witches. And more often than not I draw from the light magic...improperly."
"Light magic. How awful for you," she says lightly, testing the waters.
He smirks, just slightly. It's embarrassing for him to admit this, she realizes. "I don't think relying on that will turn you into a model citizen, sadly." Bloom continues, carefully.
"Thank God."
She releases something between a huff and a laugh. "Y'know, I'm actually not horrible at drawing from dark magic. I studied at Cloud Tower for a few days back in my second year. Griffin was actually impressed by me."
He raises an eyebrow at this. "You? Dark magic?"
"Yeah. Word had gotten out by the time you showed up, and it didn't go over well with some parents. They thought I was aligned with you."
"Hmm," he says. "Well, it appears they weren't completely wrong."
Bloom nods a little, and glances out on the skyline. She can see rain starting to fall on the other side of the city. "Look, I -"
He cuts her off again. "Don't apologize. Please."
She glances back at him, wrapping her jacket more tightly around herself. The wind is picking up, making it colder. "Do you still think we're enemies? A year later?"
Baltor takes a deep breath and looks her in the eye. They never used to do that, but now it seems like most of their conversations involve eye contact, like their first encounters. "No. But I wouldn't exactly call us friends, either."
"...Do we label ourselves then?"
"Do we need to?" he shoots back.
Bloom thinks about it for a minute. "I guess not. Do you want to label us?"
"No. I've always been of the belief labels make things too complicated too quickly."
"Former enemies standing together on a roof in London debating their status and not shooting magic fireballs at each other...aren't we already complicated enough?"
He smirks at that. "Exactly why it shouldn't be made more complicated."
Before she can say anything, her phone buzzes in her pocket. She reaches for it and looks at the screen. "It's Stella. She needs my help getting the rest of our boxes out of the apartment in Gardenia."
Baltor nods. "By all means."
She feels something wet touch her head, and she runs a hand through her hair. Another shiver wracks her. "Considering the rain's starting, it's a good idea."
"Bloom."
"Yeah?"
He gives her a pointed look, and she narrows her eyes. "What are…" she starts, but she feels a raindrop hit her hand. Except it seems far too light to be a raindrop.
She looks down at her hand, and sees a small fleck of white where she expected the drop to be.
Bloom's eyes widen, and when she feels more she looks up. Beyond the roof sees rain starting to fall heavily over the city, but where they are it isn't there. Instead, it's turned into snow. A small gasp escapes her lips, and her eyes dart around the roof before they land back on Baltor.
He smirking at her.
"...You're doing this?" she asks, and kicks herself because her voice sounds awestruck.
"Well you've been to the Omega dimension; obviously you've seen snow."
"Well yeah, but," Bloom trails off and walks over to the ledge. She sticks her hand over the edge and feels raindrops hit her hand. She draws it back, and the light feeling of snow hitting it takes its place. She exhales and watches a cloud of breath form, and disappear and it goes beyond the roof. "It's like eighty degrees, in July. And you're making it snow on a roof!" She turns back to him. "How are you doing this?"
"Bloom, Bloom," he chides her, but there's a light tone to his voice. "I told you my magic isn't much, but it can still do some things."
She grins before she can help herself. "Someone's going to see this," she says, looking down at the snow starting to gather on the concrete. "How do you explain why it's raining everywhere except the roof of your building?"
"The storm probably isn't even reaching Croydon. But if it makes you feel better." His smirk widens, and he snaps his fingers. The snow in the air dissipates, and rain starts falling over them. Bloom yelps at the sudden blast of humidity that comes over her.
"Hey!"
"You need to leave. And I would prefer to go back to studying my newly acquired books." Baltor walks past her towards the door that they used to get to the roof. Snow still crunches under his feet.
She has a quipp ready, but she doesn't say it. Instead she just smirks at him and rattles off the teleportation spell in her head. After she says the last word she blinks, and she's standing in the lobby of the now defunct Love & Pet, her wet boots leaving water on the floor.
Maybe there is a 'them' after all.
Would you like some crackers with this cheese?
If I cared about being super accurate, I would tell you how far Croydon is from Westminster. But I don't care, so I won't.