I.

Hexside has a new class, and it is no surprise that Luz Noceda is the first witch (or non-witch) to sign up for it.

It is somehow astonishing, though, the second witch that signs up for it.

Amity Blight? They thought she was too busy on the Abomination track to study anything else.

Well — apparently not.

Spanish class, and not that many witchlings had decided to take it — after all, there was little use for Spanish in the Boiling Isles other than if you wanted to read some Hispanic literature that accidentally crossed over from the Human realm.

Not to Luz Noceda, though. Although she was happy in the Boiling Isles, and that she wouldn't trade the days she spent there for anything, there were days that she missed her home so much that she thought she would implode.

Now that Principal Bump has founded the course into his school program — and Luz is pretty sure Eda had threatened him into it — she gets to experience some of her home again, and experience it with her friends nonetheless!

A week into the study of the Spanish language and Amity is fascinated by it. She loves the words and she loves how Luz speaks the language without any effort, and she is honored that Luz is patient with her whenever she struggles to pronounce a sound. So, when the teacher suggests they pair up for some in-classroom work and asks students to announce their duos, Amity finds herself screaming off the top of her lungs barely seconds after the teacher is done speaking.

"Luz!"

Everyone stares at her incredulously, but it's not their eyes that affect her most; it's Luz's big brown eyes gazing so fiercely at her that Amity is certain that she can see through her soul.

Amity blushes.

"I mean — Luz! It means light in Spanish!" she stutters, hoping that her voice full of embarrassment is convincing enough. "I… I hadn't realized it until now."

Which was a lie, because luz was the first word in Spanish that Amity had ever learned, but it's a lie gullible enough for everybody else to believe — including Luz herself, who was now staring at Amity with a soft grin on her lips.


II.

Hexside, like any other school both in the Witch world and in the Human world, more often than not provides classes that were miserable to get through.

Those classes are great at making students drowse over their books until someone accidentally snores too loudly and has to face the fate of detention, leaving everybody else alerted enough not to endure the same consequences. Lucky for them that there is always this one person eager enough to learn, shouting questions and answering questions so they would be free not to pay attention.

That person? Luz Noceda, but you saw that one coming, didn't you?

Amity Blight always tries her best to stay at the top of her class, and even when class is boring her to death , she knows how to pull her act together so it'll at least look like she's paying attention. Keeping her back straight and her pencil working on her hand, her mind rested somewhere entirely while Luz energetically participated in class on behalf of everybody else.

She would occasionally bite into her inner lips as she concentrated on the piece of paper flat out in the desk in front of her, her fingers carefully drawing lines and shapes that would eventually give life to a drawing. Amity loves drawing, always has; she thinks of art as to how truly express herself when words often fail her.

"What are you drawing?" Luz tries to take a peek over the paper as she dramatically leans on the edge of her seat.

Amity smiles gently, knowing Luz won't be able to see it no matter how much she tries. "Just — stuff."

"Stuff?!"

"Yeah," she nods, "I like to draw the things I love."

Luz approves of that answer and lets it go.

That is, until the class ends. Amity is gathering her things to leave when the paper flies off her desk, dancing in the air like a leaf on a windy day of summer until it falls to the ground. Amity panics, and Luz is the one to come to her aid — for her despair — and picks the drawing from the floor.

She stares at it curiously, trying to discern the figures. Luz doesn't talk or motions to give it back until Amity starts babbling.

"It's a — a metaphor."

"A metaphor," she repeats dully, still studying the piece of art.

"Yeah…" Amity scratches her hair.

"Well, what is it a metaphor for?"

Amity sighs. "Light."

"Light?" Luz reiterates, "You love… light?!"

Amity hugs herself, self-conscious. "I don't like darkness. And light… Light makes me feel safe."

"That's pretty," Luz answers, giving the drawing back; Amity accepts it clumsily. "You know that if you're ever in the dark, I'm here for you. Right?"

Although she blushes, Amity manages to smile. "Yeah. I do."


III.

Amity is walking home amidst the quietness of the forests of the Boiling Isles when she hears a soft whimper coming from afar.

She takes cautious steps towards the source of the sound, prepared to either encounter a demon of some sort or some innocent creature that had gotten hurt in the path.

However, she is not prepared to walk into a senior student from Hexside hovering threateningly over her friend.

Her Luz.

Amity doesn't think twice before casting a spell that sends him flying away and crashing with a thud into the distance.

Luz turns her head towards her savior, out of breath. Not that she was incapable of looking after herself; no, in fact, she is rather used to standing up to bullies back home. She's always been a weirdo, and weirdos rarely ever fit in in the Human realm. However, she is not used to people sticking up for her. She's not used to having people at all.

She looks at her savior and she sees Amity, standing there with her fists closed to her sides and lines across her face. She's like fire and ice and rage; she's like the night and the storm in the heart of the sun. And she is there , and there had been too little people in her life that Luz could say that had been there for her.

Amity is standing now too close to her, and Luz barely remembers how she got from where she was standing to there.

"Are you hurt?" Amity asks, genuinely concerned, the bully now long gone.

"No, I don't think so," Luz answers, her voice a little shaky. "Why did you do that?"

"Why did I what, save you?!"

"People usually just walk away," she whispers.

"That's funny. You've never walked away from anything in your life," Amity comments, chuckling to herself as she looks down on her feet. "That's what you've taught me, anyway. To do what is right. What is decent, what is… Kind. Just kind."

Luz's eyes become larger and brighter than usual. "I taught you that?"

Amity smiles shyly. "Come on. Let's get you home."


IV.

It is night, and Luz invites Amity to spend the night at the Owl House.

Amity agrees to it without thinking. Not only does she love spending time with Luz, but she also prefers the lovable environment of the Owl House compared to the tension of her own home.

They sit outside, several light glyphs laid out on the grass surrounding them. The moon is high and bright above them, and they are happy enough to co-exist next to each other while bathing in the glory of moonlight.

Luz touches one of the glyphs and light is born.

"Is it okay for us to be here?" she asks shyly, "I remember you said you didn't like the dark."

Amity's cheeks are tainted with red; she hadn't expected Luz to remember it.

"I don't mind," she blurts, "I told you, it was a metaphor."

"All metaphors have a hint of truth behind them," Luz says, attempting a grin when she didn't know if it was safe to smile.

"It's okay," she assures, "We have your glyphs."

Luz ironically chuckles. "I'm not sure they're big enough to scare away the darkness. They're so small that they fit in the palm of our hands."

A sphere of light flew onto Amity, who held it in both her hands.

"In that case," she started, raising the light and setting it free, "We'll just borrow the moonlight."

Luz bits into her lip; she likes that.

"Until it is through?"

"Until it is through," Amity agrees, daring to steal a glance of hers. She studies the sweet expression on Luz's face, and she whispers, "Eres la Luz de mi vida."

Although her words are faint, Luz hears all of them. She gazes at Amity, and, for the first time, she understands — Amity isn't talking about the moonlight.

She never had been.

Luz leans closer and presses a quick kiss to Amity's cheek, feeling them burn under her lips.

If Luz were light, then Amity was fire.

One couldn't exist without the other.