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Rated: 18+ · Book · Contest Entry · #1872532
My entries for the 15 for 15 contest
#755071 added June 17, 2012 at 10:09am
Restrictions: None
June 9: Surf
The water skimmed below his feet as the world behind him burned. An exhilarated laugh tore from his throat as he banked hard behind the boat. The wind carried a hint of ashes to his nose and he breathed deeply, beaming.

It had gone off without a hitch. Within five minutes, the entire complex had gone up in brilliant red and yellow flames. He had stared, mesmerized, into them until his partner jerked him off his feet and dragged him to the boat. He couldn't help it. Who could, with such a brilliant, deadly gift? If it wasn't for the fact he would likely set the rope on fire, he would let the flames out over his skin once more. They never hurt him. They couldn't hurt their progenitor.

With a sputter, the boat puttered to a halt, washed up on the shore. He let go and let himself fall backward into the shallow water, letting flickering orange flames spring up over his arms for a moment before the water put them out with a hiss.

"Stop showing off," his partner rolled her eyes at him. He stuck his tongue out at her, letting a bright blue flame spark off the tip.

"Let's go," she instructed, casting an anxious glance toward the smoke-smudged horizon. "I don't want to be caught lingering here."

"Right," he said, trudging onto the sand. His suit dripped water steadily, dampening the ground. "Where to now?"

"Home, I guess," she shrugged, twisting her dark red hair to get the water out. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and the light of a job well done. "Your eyes are doing that funny thing again, by the way."

"What?" he asked, confused as he grabbed his duffel bag out of the boat and slung it over his shoulder.

"That flame-y thing," she said. "Stop it. It will freak people out."

"I can't help it," he shrugged. "It just happens when I get to indulge myself for a while. And that conflagration back there...wow! It was beautiful." A silly smile spread across his face at the new memory.

"I'm sure," she rolled her eyes again. He frequently thought she had no soul, if she couldn't see the beauty the flames possessed. Flickering, dancing, that blue core at the heart of them, as the heat rolled across your skin...

"Home it is, then," he said, slinging an arm across her shoulders. "And the next job, I presume."

"That's not for a week," she informed him, sliding out from under his arm and pulling her hair into a high ponytail. "We have plenty of time."

"Good," he said, and let the flames inside him dance off the tips of his fingers. His eyes reflected them, orange and yellow and red. Another smile stretched his mouth. He couldn't wait.
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