Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Eugh, the sorcerer? Please,” the slender princess scoffed as the sharp sound of her jacket’s zipper pierced the air around her. Her hands reached behind her neck, gently dragging her locks up from beneath the leather and shaking it out, finally turning her gaze back to Juliet. “Isn’t he a little too… short?” 

“I mean, have you seen him sling those spells? None compare,” the woman exclaimed, gesturing her hands as if they were throwing something as they walked through the parking lot. “Magic ain’t my style, but we both know it’s yours,” she teased.

Angella rolled her eyes with a sigh. There was no denying that, having come from a lineage of powerful, innate magic users. Those born within her bloodline are bestowed with a sacred, historical power. For some, it’s the gift of telepathy, for others, teleportation, or in her case, flight, now donning an effervescent set of mystical wings that were still yet growing. This was of course in addition to her raw natural talent in controlling the mana of the world around her, taught at an incredibly young age to wield it responsibly. 

She grunted as she turned her eyes away from her friend, pointedly denying her claims with her body language as her wings tightened against her body, jutting out from behind her jacket and hugging her sleek shoulders. “My magic and their magic,’ she began after a few more steps of silence. “They aren’t comparable,” she concluded rather commandingly. 

Juliet shrugged her shoulders as she reached into her back pocket to pull out the key to her beetle as the two of them reached the point where they would split to get to their respective parking spots. “Well, I’m just saying, you might be surprised! His sister has told me all about him, after all,” she said as they stood on the intersection of the sidewalk. 

“Who—that preppy bitch? I forgot they were even related,” Angella responded, furrowing her brows with disgust. “If he’s as annoying as she is, I’m definitely not interested,” she chuckled as she reached both of her hands into her jacket pockets, jingling her own keys within.

“Hah! Well, whatever,” Juliet conceded, looking over to her car before turning back to Angella. “See ya’, Siren.”

“Later, Jules,” Angella tossed back as they parted ways, strutting her way through the parking lot towards her bike. She pulled out her gold-rimmed aviators to combat the blinding sun that struck her now that she turned the corner. The weekend was here, and so was she. It was time to tear it up.

Her boots clattered against the pavement as she slid her delicate fingers across the body of her motorcycle, reaching for the handlebars before twirling her leg up and over it to get on. She flared her wings as she stretched her arms up, cracking her knuckles before finally turning the key in the ignition to hear the engine roar. Everyone could hear the ripping sounds of her bougie white and purple overseas import bellow through the parking lot, garnering enthralled gazes of other students from all directions. There was a reason everyone called her Siren. Well, it was one of them at least.

It didn’t take long before she took off, helmet on tight with her hair tucked within her jacket again. She quickly accelerated past the speed limit once she was off the school grounds as she darted through the college town, euphorically feeling the wind sweep against her legs and jacket as she passed the other cars by. You know, completely legally of course. It’s not illegal if there isn’t anyone around to tell you otherwise.

Finally, she reached the town’s perimeter where she could truly kick it into 6th gear, spinning that dial up wildly to let the highways hear it, mouthing the words behind her visor as she sunk into her own world of speed and adrenaline. Nothing could top it. No spells, no magic, nothing. Just loud music and an open road. 

It was already so late into the evening that the roads were practically empty, but she eventually drove up behind a gaudy yellow mustang convertible, regrettably needing to slow down at first on the single-lane highway. As she drew closer, however, she could hear her music begin to drown out at the sound of a clashing tune, its guitars beginning to flood against the jams she had going on her bike. 

Ugh, fuck this, she thought, deliberately revving her engine as she jolted her wrist forward to accelerate even higher past the speed limit than she already was to pass this guy, dipping into the oncoming traffic lane once she saw there wasn’t a soul in sight on the narrow road.

‘Come on! Come on! Come on! LET’S GO SPACE TRUCKIN’! COME ON! COME ON! COME ON!’

As she was pulling up beside the rather beaten vehicle, the driver was bangin’ his head with a rock song blaring at max volume, unpleasantly singing along. Angella couldn’t help but turn her head to get a glimpse as the noise penetrated her helmet, it was that loud. Then, she finally got a look at who it was. Eugh, seriously?!

It was the sorcerer Juliet was talking so highly about—god, she’ll really settle for anyone, huh? He turned his cheeky grin to her as he sung so horrendously to the song. “YEAAAH, YEAAAH, YEAAAH, SPACE TRUCKIN’!” he belted to the heavens, his gaze sheltered by a jet black pair of shades. The bastard had a streak of gold at the forefront of his mullet, the wind pushing it so effortlessly out of his face as he drove with his hand aggressively slapping the side of his door in tandem with the beat of the drum.

Angella shook her head as her eyes hit the road in front of her, pissed at the idea of this guy even existing, let alone being so obnoxiously tacky and ruining her drive. Nuh-uh, fuck that. She turned her wrist forward even further, gradually picking up more speed to get in front of him and carry on. Her engine shot out guttural noises as it was pushed closer to its limits, launching into speeds unfamiliar even to her just to show this jackass who the real boss of the road was. 

She was able to ride out the rest of her song, blissfully forgetting about what just transpired, but it wasn’t long until her ride was interrupted once again. There it was, in her left-side rear mirror. The ugly yellow mustang, speeding right up in the oncoming traffic lane, with the sound of coastal guitars scraping the sound barrier. Angella turned her head again to meet the gaze of the sorcerer, who shot her a smile of deviousness, seemingly not afraid of a little competition. Alright, magic boy, it’s on. You don’t know who you’re fucking with.

Without hesitation, Angella raised a single hand off the handle bars and began to sketch out an intricate glyph with rapid precision, clutching it in her hand and smacking it against the body of her vehicle. The tubes below illuminated with a vibrant yellow hue as sparks of light shot out from the exhaust pipes in the back. Whatever the maximum speed this thing could reach was, Angella broke that meter with ease as she could feel her wings involuntarily spread, gliding behind her in the wind as she launched so much farther ahead, her grip intensifying as a grin of pride overtook her face. When she looked in the rearview mirror, there was no shitty beater car left in sight. The road was hers yet again.

—

This was the farthest she’d gone in many months, neighboring nothing but small towns and the odd diner. In her case, she rolled up to the first gas station she found after pushing her wheels to the limit not so long ago, effectively driving on magic alone with its empty tank. It was quaint, and somewhat endearing in the light of dusk, touched in just the right spots by the sun to make it look like an attraction from the right angle, but it seriously wasn’t much. Four pumps, and the building was a hybrid convenience store & motel combo, and… wait, you CAN’T be serious.

There it was. The disgusting yellow mustang she drove past earlier, parked at the forefront of the gas pumps as she rolled up behind it. Nobody was in it, and the engine was off, presumably inside buying his gas. How did he even…? WHY is he here before me?! she thought furiously to herself as she flipped her kickstand up, slamming her boots to the dust as she turned the engine off. Just as she began to dismount, the door of the shoddy motel swung open, ringing an overhead bell, and there he was, douchey mullet and all. 

She paid it no mind, continuing to unstrap her helmet, pulling it up over her head and slinging it over the handlebars. She arched her head back as she lifted the hair up from beneath her jacket, its silky lavender locks draping far down her back as she swung her head to air it out. With both of her middle fingers, she parted any hair that fell against her face, then finally turned her face back to the sorcerer, simply standing there, gawking. With a quick snap of her fingers, the boy’s sunglasses fogged up with glitter, startling him as he frantically reached up to his face to remove them. 

Then, with a bellowing laugh, the sorcerer began to finally step forward, slinging his ruined sunglasses off his face to the dirt below. “Ho, ho! If it isn’t the siren herself!” he exclaimed loudly amidst his laughter, now just steps away from the bike as he crossed his arms.

Alright, Jules, I’ll hand it to you. He is rather handsome for his height, Angella thought as she gave his broad shoulders and arms a once-over. Though any positive thoughts were quickly swept under the rug as she turned her eyes to the horrible car he drove, then back to him as she slouched over with one hand on her hips.

“Careful, little sorcerer,” she started, darting her eyes down to his feet and back to gesture to his height, then back to the mustang. “Ships do get wrecked in my presence,” she added as her wings jolted out from her back, sweeping the dust beneath her outward in each direction. 

In a sudden motion, she bent her knees and quickly propelled herself up from the ground, gliding up and past her bike landing precariously close behind the stocky boy, poised as could be as her hair gently settled against her shoulders upon her descent. She turned her head to the side so that she knew he could hear her softer, more salacious voice as she teased him. “So try not to lose your way,” she chuckled, stepping firmly against the dirt road to make her way inside to settle up for her own gas, the door slamming behind her.

Bashful as could be, the sorcerer stood there, aimlessly shooting his smitten eyes from point to point as he tried to process what just… happened. Whatever it was, it was incredibly intriguing, and played right into what he was already doing. He smiled wide and let out a chuckle of his own to shake off the giddy feelings of excitement as he walked around to the other side of the woman’s bike, locating the plug for the gas tank and opening it up. Without time to waste, he hooked up the pump he had preemptively paid for—one of them, at least—and let it get to work before he skipped over to his own pump to get his own ride all gassed up.

He recognized that bike anywhere. Everyone who was anyone knew who Angella was, whether they wanted to or not. Seldom did any know her as Angella, but with a voice, body, and reputation like that? The Siren could have whatever she wanted if she so much as looked at you the right way, and the thought alone was mesmerizing to think about. They had no common classes, but he himself had been gaining some college renown in some of the local sorcery competitions, breaking records as he slung his spells so effortlessly. With this new spike of faux-fame, he thought even the stunning Siren would know who he was now—it must have been fate for them to meet on the dusty highway he was so attached to.

Before too long, the chime of the doorbell rang aggressively as the wooden door swung wildly open, Angella’s teeth grinding against themselves as she seethed with anger. Her encounter with the clerk did not quite go as she anticipated, being told that the pump she was at was being used when it clearly wasn’t. When she got outside, she looked over to the sorcerer who was leaning  lazily up against his ride, back facing her as he waited for his gas, then over to her own. It was all hooked up, and just as she looked over, she could hear the chnk! of the handle releasing from the auto-fill, indicating its completion.

She wasted no time stomping over to the opposite side of the mustang, both of her hands smacking down against the trunk of it, startling the poor boy as he flinchingly turned around to face her.

“Alright, Michael, what the hell is your deal?!” Angella shouted commandingly, still slouched with her palms against the back of the vehicle— still needing to look down at him. “First, you ruin my ride. Second, you somehow get here before me. Now this,” she concluded, gesturing aggressively to her bike. Her voice bellowed as the tips of her hair levitated up from her jacket ever slightly as her raw magic was channeled through her rage, a cool-hued fire burning in her eyes as she stared down the sorcerer.

All the sorcerer could do was laugh, flinging his hands up behind his head as he leaned back against the pump now, before he finally retorted. “Well, Siren, the name is Micah, for starters, and for the rest,” he paused, “you should know better than anyone that a magician never reveals their secrets.”

This talk only stoked the fires of rage even more as Angella slammed her fist against the back of the mustang, denting it with her unsuspecting strength, eliciting a gasp from Micah. Honestly, there wasn’t a point in arguing about the gas. It was free, after all. Why turn her nose up at it? However, she refused to leave without understanding why she lost the race she didn’t know she was in.

“Look, magic boy, I don’t have time for this, or you,” she said, rolling her eyes as she finally turned away and took stride towards her bike to unhook the pump from it. She knew her influence, and hard-to-get might as well have been her major.

Micah couldn’t help but play into Angella’s hand as he recognized the lack of longevity in this exchange, not quite ready to give up on pursuing her. In a swift motion of his own, his wrist flickered to fabricate a glyph, snapping it out of the air and yanking on it with both hands to pull it apart. Fwsh!

Just as Angella was about to reach for the pump, Micah appeared in a burst of light beside it, making Angella squeak with shock and jump in her own skin, wings flaring involuntarily. The sorcerer reached his hand forward and unplugged the nozzle from the bike, resting his other hand on the bed of it and shooting her a cocky stare. 

“This give you any hints, pumpkin?” he teased as he hung up the nozzle and crossed his arms, leaning against the pump once again as he soaked in the sight of such a flabbergasted Angella.

She was speechless—and regrettably quite impressed—at the magic she bore witness to. Teleportation wasn’t unfamiliar to her, as her grandmother was capable of it, but never has she seen another person do it, nor even hear about it. Combined with his suave attitude, there was… certainly something piquing her interest, as much as she hated to admit it. Eventually, she crossed her own arms as her brows were raised, turning her head back to look at where Micah once stood, and then back to him.

“Fine, I concede,” Angella delivered with the poise anyone could come to suspect from her. “Now get away from my bike,” she followed up as she flung a hand up, now glowing with a faint white outline as her fingers flared. 

Suddenly, Micah could feel an unseen wind push him off balance as he was nudged backward a few steps, almost tripping over his own feet. In his time of lost composure, Angella had already mounted her bike, sinking her head into that helmet as her engine roared. There was little he could do but watch, completely infatuated by the whole dynamic of it all. Maybe getting shipwrecked wasn’t so bad. 

Then, before he could say anything further, the wheels of the bike tore up a storm of dirt in its wake as she sped around the hideous mustang, finally reunited with the highway with the sun glistening against her loosened wings. Yet another sight to behold as Micah stood there, absolutely awestruck. Though it didn’t last long, hearing the splashing of liquid from the direction of his car. Oh, damn it—damn it! he thought as he scrambled to go unhook the gas pump that was stuck on auto-fill well past the fill line. Gas was everywhere, but he couldn’t help but laugh it off. 

So be it, Siren. You’re on.

Chapter Text

Her fingers twirled around the telephone cord as she shot one foot over the other, legs shooting up against the wall as Angella laid her back to her bed, gawking at the Bowie poster looming above as her friend bantered in her ears. 

“I mean, come on. I was right, and you know it,” the voice said over the static-infused line, only intermittently comprehensible on such an unstable connection. Angella twirled her cord so that she could try to hear it better.

“Pff, 'right' is a strong word, Jules. It was a fluke—and I’m not interested,” she declared back, her eyes shifting to the open as the sun continued to set. It was hard to believe the weekend went by so quickly, still being incredibly behind on some assigned readings that she just couldn’t give the light of day to no matter what she did. Why read when you can ride? When you can get just a little fucked up with your friends? … Okay, maybe not just a little. 

Saturday was a hectic night, deciding to carpool with the gals to the big city to find the busiest patio they could find, crusading through town hopping from bar to bar. It wasn’t uncommon for Angella to use some illegitimate magic to sway others into giving her free shit, and her friends loved her for it. Could she just buy the damn things? With her family’s wealth, absolutely. But where was the fun in that? There was a certain thrill she got from riding the law so ambiguously, whether she was on the road or not.

All that said, her motivation—and body—paid for it throughout the day on Sunday, indulging in a 1pm breakfast and a 4pm nap to shake off whatever bullshit she ingested the previous night. There was no way she could competently complete anything she had to finish up for Monday, but thankfully one of Jules’ friends was kind enough to agree to share her notes before class in the morning. That is, if Angella isn’t late like she usually is on Mondays. 

“Oh—sorry, it cut out. Whatcha say?” she asked, focusing back to Juliet’s voice, completely ignoring whatever sounds just came over the line, masking it with the usual excuse: a shitty cord. Which wasn’t untrue. Sometimes.

“Come on, Angie, you gotta get a better phone soon,” the woman on the other line laughed before repeating herself. “What I said was that I think you two have a lot more in common than you think.”

She sounded like a broken record, effectively coming up with different ways to tell her to date the sorcerer no matter how many times she responded with a resounding ‘fuck no’. “Tough luck, buttercup. Couldn’t be bothered by a man right now,” she said. 

“Sure, sure, tell that to the Angie whose tongue was in that guitarist’s mouth last night before she was even drunk.”

“That’s not the same, fuck you,” Angella laughed as she finessed her fingers over to the dial of her phone. “Ohhh nooo, you’re breaking uuup,” she followed up with blatant sarcasm.

“Angie, don’t you da—” Bnnnnn. Chnk!

The princess held the button atop the rotary phone, disconnecting the call before she firmly put the phone back in its cradle. She groaned as both of her hands flung up to slowly run her fingers through her hair, exhaling whatever stress still lingered as her head swirled with thoughts of school, upcoming exams, and unfortunately, Micah. 

There was something endearing about the sorcerer that she couldn’t quite put a finger on. She was hardly ever challenged so pointedly by anyone, let alone a lowly magic-wannabe. Perhaps that was it, but nothing more. Sure, he has some compelling magic capabilities but it still didn’t compare to her own natural talent. And that ugly mustang?! Uh-uh. Especially not with that cheesy streak in his hair. Although those tunes were up her alley, she’d have to admit.

As if she couldn’t focus enough already due to her hangover, it didn’t help her egotistical self to think that some boy was better than her at something. Of course she knew of his accomplishments, but never gave them the time of day, purposely remaining oblivious to her friends regarding whatever rumors were spread about him. She was so accustomed to the attention, and rightly so, making it frustrating to hear someone else get the same recognition when he’s like… well, whatever that is.

Angella finally let her legs crash down to the bed as she pushed herself up with her hands, stretching her wings and arms before finally mustering up the energy to at least get dinner. Maaaybe she’d get a reading or two done. Skimming only, though.

—

Surprising no one, Angella barely made it to the school for her second class, completely neglecting the first one, and with only fifteen minutes to spare, even. It might as well have just been an absence. Regardless, she met with Juliet and their mutual magicat friend, Serena to catch up regarding the morning’s lectures, but honestly paid them little mind. She simply did it out of obligation, already eager to get to the cafeteria for some lunch. Well, breakfast.

The three of them were making their stride across campus, bantering about their weekend and how much they wished that they had the day off to enjoy the beautiful weather, sharing a mutual feeling of distaste towards the college. They passed by the parking lot so that Juliet could grab her gym bag for the afternoon, and Angella wished they hadn’t. Not four spots down from Juliet’s cute lil’ beetle was the last thing she wanted to see. Micah, with his feet propped up against the dashboard, lost in a book while his music drowned out nearby conversations.

Juliet slammed the door of her trunk after slinging a duffel bag over her shoulder, then curiously looked towards Angella’s glare. She traced it with her own, then broke out into a chuckle as she made the connection.

“Don’t worry, Angie, I gotchu,” she muttered as she brought her hands up to her mouth, cupping them to project her voice.

“Jules, don’t—”

“Miiicaaah! Show me a trick!” Juliet shouted, garnering the attention of the sorcerer as he flicked his head back to meet their stares. 

Angella could see the shit-eating grin on his face as their eyes met. He didn’t even open the door to get up, he launched his legs over it, and Angella simply scoffed at the needless flex, watching him adjust his jacket from afar. Micah didn’t even walk over, he simply leaned against the trunk of his car, gesturing for them to walk over, to which Juliet and Serena unfortunately obliged to, meaning Angella had to tag along reluctantly.

“Girls, girls, hey!” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands together and letting gentle wisps of magic bounce between his knuckles, sparks of white light fluttering before them. 

“Hey, Micah!” the other girls said almost in unison, but the sorcerer was hardly paying them any mind, giving them glances but not much else. His gaze averted straight to Angella, whose arms were crossed as she said nothing. She wanted to look away but just… didn’t, for some reason. She wanted to see whatever stupid shit this boy was about to do.

“I have just the trick,” he started, raising his brows at both Juliet and Serena, then turning his head to the back of his car. “You see, my ride and I have been through a lot,” he continued, taking a few steps over to the dent that Angella so graciously left on it for him.

Damn, I really did a number on that pile of garbage, Angella thought as she broke into a stifled chuckle, observing the sizable impact her enchanted fists left on it. She was curious to see whatever this trick could be. Maybe a disappearing act where he just abolishes the heaping lump of metal altogether!

In contrast to the last time Micah drew a glyph in Angella’s presence, he made sure to draw this one out nice and slow, putting on the act of it being rather elaborate—because it was! The art of mending was so unpopular at the college, most students favoring offensive or scientific uses for sorcery, but Micah could not possibly neglect the branches of rehabilitation. Saves him lots of money. 

He finished the glyph, then spoke a few First Ones’ words to allow the rune to become tangible, its gaseous form vaguely solidifying in the corporeal realm for a few moments. In that short window, he grabbed it with both hands and delicately placed it atop the dent, hugging the would-be form of its past self. Then, he snapped his fingers, and with a shimmer of light, it might as well have been brand new. The metal contorted soundlessly to its previous shape, leaving each of the girls’ mouths agape, Angella not excluded.

The other two giggled with excitement and adoration upon seeing such delicate magic being used by such strong arms, but Angella was fuming. She never learned restoration magic and was immediately jealous, thinking of the few nicks and bruises her ride has endured over the last couple years. She reached her arm forward to Juliet to move her aside, clacking her boots against the concrete to get up in Micah’s face, clutching him by the shirt

“How did you do that?!” she demanded. If he was going to show off—to her friends no less—then he was gonna show her. As lacking as Angella’s motivation or drive might be, her ambition and determination knew no bounds if she wanted to know something. 

Micah fumbled to find a response as he stuttered out grunts of panic at the sudden impetus of Angella’s fist, her knuckle digging into his collarbone. “H-hey! I stand by what I said!” he exclaimed. Then, she released him, but not without a forceful push as he smacked against the back of his car. 

“Angie, forget about it!” Juliet’s voice rang over the music that still hung over them, oddly deafening despite its sheer volume. Though it was fruitless, Angella was stubborn as usual not listening to those around her now that she’s latched onto an idea.

“Stand by what, little wizard?” Angella retorted, looming well over a foot taller than the puny boy as her arms crossed and she leaned into a slouch.

Micah chuckled, catching his breath from the fall of adrenaline, adjusting the collar of his shirt before repeating words he’d already said to her previously. “A magician never reveals their secrets, pumpkin,” he said, smirking as he mirrored Angella’s stance. “That is, of course… not for free, at least.”

That piqued Angella’s interest. Whatever the price was, she could pay it—double it, even. She returned a grin of her own as her brows furrowed with intrigue. “Name your price, mage,” she commanded as her arms unfurled and she shifted her weight to her other leg. 

The sorcerer’s lips parted to showcase near-perfect teeth, looking as though he had just won the lottery. “Easy!” he bellowed, lifting an arm as he gestured his thumb over his shoulder to point behind him. “Show me what that devil’s capable of, and you can know all you want,” he teased, aiming his thumb vaguely towards the foreign motorcycle in the distance. He knew how outlandish this request was and precisely what Angella’s response would be, so he didn’t have to worry about actually spending the time to teach her anything as meticulous as this.

Except he did.

“Done. Six ‘o clock, and if you’re late, this rubbish goes up in flames,” she threatened with an effervescent smile of her own. “Alright, pumpkin?”

Micah was speechless, swallowing down whatever lump of breathlessness overtook him as he simply nodded, not knowing what he just got himself into. He had heard that Angella had a temper, but wow did he ever not set the right expectations. It was equally intimidating as it was hot, and thrice more unbelievable than both of those combined. 

Angella turned her heels and walked in between the other girls, whose jaws remained open with shock at what they just witnessed. They almost couldn’t move, but at the snap of Angella’s fingers, a gust of force ushered them along behind her, each of them stammering to get out words to make sense of what just happened. The princess remained stoic enough so as to not over explain if not needed, but she couldn’t deny that she felt powerful in that moment. As she knows she ought to. 

With more distance between them and Micah, Juliet finally opened up her ‘told-you-so’ speech but was interrupted before she could even get a single syllable out.

“Don’t get the wrong idea—I’ll learn it quickly from him compared to the oaf that teaches it formally,” she explained, eyeing daggers into Juliet as she turned her head, shutting her right up, but not stopping her from donning a satisfied grin. Juliet didn’t need to say she was right for Angella to acknowledge it, and that silent affirmation was enough to sate her as the girls finally made their way to the food court.

—

Okay, Siren. It’s already past six, so why isn’t my car on fire? Micah thought to himself as he checked his watch, leaning up against whoever’s car was parked beside Angella’s ride. He did not know what to expect, not having expected to ever get this far to begin with. It was honestly terrifying, the inevitability of spending time alone with perhaps the scariest woman on campus, all because he thought he’d try to be clever. It was nerve-wracking and every part of him wanted to just warp right out of there and into the comfort of his dorm, but no. This was a big opportunity that his friends would be pissed to hear if he bailed. 

Then, just when he thought for some reason she had bailed, the jingling of keys combined with the rippling sound of her steel-toed boots made their way through the parking lot. Fashionably late, but forgivable for how stunning she still managed to look despite the menacing aura. Not a hair out of place, upon his distant observation, unable to help himself from checking her out as she strutted towards him. Under one of her arms was a helmet, but not the one she traditionally wore. Before he could think further about it, the princess tossed it over as she drew nearer, forced to catch it somewhat awkwardly as Angella simply laughed.

“You do know how to put that on, right?” she asked, stepping right past him as the static aura of her magic lifted the hairs on his arms, then reached for the helmet locked against the side of her bike.

Micah didn’t have an answer, opting to just put it on right away, not struggling to connect it and size it to his head. Yeesh, sure didn’t smell good though. He didn’t bother to ask much about it, since he didn’t have much of a choice even if he didn’t like it. 

Without skipping a bit, Angella, swung her slender leg up and over the vehicle, graceful as always, simultaneously turning the key to the ignition to expedite the process. Within seconds, she was ready, helmet and all, turning impatiently to Micah who stood there like an emperor penguin on a hot day. 

“Well?” she exclaimed, lifting her glove up from the handlebar out of impatience, ushering him to get on. Gosh, are all men truly the same? she thought in passing, recalling identical reactions from previous men she took out for ‘joy’ rides. 

Micah shook off whatever this was, cracked his knuckles and whipped up a snide comment to make up for the wasted time. “Forgive me, I just couldn’t help but notice just how bad you need my help,” gesturing to a sizable tear in the body of the bike. “Tsk tsk tsk,” he teased further.

Hmm, Angella thought to herself, dismissing whatever train of thought had come through the station, proven wrong yet again. There was something about the way this boy talked that excited her in equal parts to how much it annoyed her. No matter, the only role he was here to play was to show her restoration magic. 

Finally, Micah swung his own legs over, now comfortable on the back seat of the bike. Because it was an import, there wasn’t exactly a ton of real estate for two people, and there certainly wasn’t anything there to support his back, either. He had to come to terms with the fact that he had to hold onto her, and in that moment, tensed up with unease as his hands clutched onto his own knees. 

Angella, of course, was not going to have any of that. Before she lifted the kickstand, she turned her head and muffledly said through her helmet, “Unless you want to fall off, you better get cozy and hold on.” Her leather-bound fingers reached for Micah’s warm hands and pulled them around, forcing them to meet in front of her stomach, feeling them intertwine as Micah scooted farther up against Angella’s back. That’s more like it, Angella thought, guiltily enjoying the intimacy.

She flipped the kickstand up and revved the engine, still in neutral as she backed out of the parking spot, prepped and ready to go. Well, not quite ready. She turned the dial on the console to turn on the radio, then cranked the volume way up to get her blood pumping. Ready or not, here we go, she thought, not thinking twice as she accelerated through the parking lot. She could feel Micah’s hands grip her tight as she continued to pick up speed, not even on one of the main roads yet. 

“Hold on, short stuff,” she teased as she revved the engine one last time before finally turning onto one of the freeways to let the road have it.

Chapter Text

The weather was perfect. Breezy, with the tail end of the sun setting to light up the road just right. Of course, breezy was an understatement with the penetrating winds slamming against the folds of her jacket. As her wheels tore up the ashen pavement beneath, she could feel the poor boy’s hands grip tighter against her as her fingers continued to twist forward, effectively flooring it without reservations. 

It didn’t really matter that Micah was there, honestly. This feeling was so elating every time, so breathtakingly natural for her and the perfect escape from whatever plagued her at any given time. What did matter was that he held up his end of the bargain when they got to their destination, and Angella had a contingency plan if he decided to flake at any point. She should have been in class, but instead she was in the library studying a new spell—a talent she had a natural affinity for—in the event that he did try something: a counterspell.

“Th-this is so fast!” the boy’s voice shouted from behind her, his helmet pressed between the apex of where her wings laid dormant. This new experience doubled up as both thrilling and terrifying, not quite sure of what to make of it. There was a certain excitement that he couldn’t quite place, but any good feelings were swallowed up by the anxiety of injury and worse, his powerlessness with his hands compromised. 

“Go faster, you said?!” Angella spit back at him as she spun the handle to give that engine a voice again, accelerating past her current limit once again. On the freeways, she tried to follow the speed limit—truly! Outside of the city however? No way. Clocking in at 120 miles an hour now, she felt herself mesmerized by the road’s flickering stripes passing them by in conjunction with the crashing tunes ringing in her ears, and nothing else really mattered.

Until it did.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw it before she even looked in the rearview mirror. The flickering hues of reds and blues grazing the rims of her mirrors. The fuzz. Her music paired with the roaring engine drowned out any initial sounds of sirens, but soon they too collided with their ears as the twilight of the night began to blend all these colours together like a picasso painting. 

“H-hey! You should p-pull over!” the magician stuttered, turning his head back frantically to both her and the police car trailing behind them. How cute, Angella thought, that you seriously think I might do that.

“Aww, baby’s first police chase?” she teased over her shoulder as she spun her handle to its true maximum, putting even more distance between her and the bastards that chased her. The poor boy’s heart was beating so rapidly that she could feel it against her back. You haven’t seen nothing yet, little wizard.

She readied herself, not shy to have a little fun as she swung the dial of the radio to the heaviest channel she knew, needing to feel the adrenaline burn through her veins to give her the guts to follow through on what she was about to do, perhaps swapping over to something all too fitting from Micah’s perspective. Its gritty, thrashy guitars mimicked the voice in her heart demanding her to show them what for, swiftly charting a rune against the body of her bike and laying into it with her palm to enchant the body in the same way she did on Friday to go even faster.

In a blazing, shimmering light, she shot forward as her bike’s front wheel lifted slightly up from the ground as the pavement beneath them was streaked with purple light. This wasn’t the first time she’d evaded a speeding ticket like this, but she was about to be in for a first of her own following her cockiness.

She wasn’t alone in the vehicle enchantment department, the police car swiftly riding up behind her despite the whirlwind speed of 210mph she’d reached, something no bike would be capable of on its own.

“I-I can get us out of here!” Micah shouted from behind with desperation as he clutched the core of Angella’s jacket. “But I can’t create glyphs at this speed!”

Yet again, Angella couldn’t help but feel the excitement of surprise, not expecting to hear a peep out of him right now, let alone something so rebellious. Who are you, Micah?

“Got it!” Angella affirmed, confiding in his suggestion as she finagled a spell of her own to accompany, something she hadn’t used in a long time, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Perhaps the song was more fitting than she thought, too. With a swift stroke of her fingers, letting go of the acceleration to draw it against the other side of the bike, a pulsating white light emanated before she shouted a First Ones’ verse. Then, without hesitating further, began to unfurl her wings as the wind ripped through their tips, and soon, woosh!

The spell had magically syphoned the material weight of the motorcycle, weighing no more than a feather as her wings carried them to the sky, gliding up against the forceful winds thrust against them as the police car burned past them beneath. They were decelerating rather quickly now that the erratic spin of the wheels were divorced from the bed of the highway, and in turn, began to descend rather quickly, a genuine panic now setting into Angella.

“Micah?!” she screeched as they picked up speed, spiraling downward, unable to carry the weight of her and the sorcerer on her underdeveloped wings. Her sweaty grip on the bike intensified as her heart began to beat out of her chest, freezing up as she braced for whatever was about to come. Then, she felt release of Micah’s hands from beneath her chest, and within seconds, fwsh!

—

Angella’s breath was short as she reeled from the stress, her wheels rolling ever gently across the dirt road she ended up on. Everything happened so fast. Which of course is never a problem for her, but everything that went down in the last five minutes were just so hectic, and… awesome. Hah! She didn’t think he had it in him, yet here he was showing her up again. No words were spoken as they caught their breath, happy to take it easy on the beaten road as the stars above began to sparkle in the night. It was surprisingly beautiful, foliage on the left and the waterfront on her right. She’d never been on this path, somewhat surprised that she wasn’t aware of something so… serene. Finally, she spoke.

“Where… are we?” she asked, somewhat awestruck as the moon began to creep over the bed of the lake in the distance, causing her to come to a full stop after rolling up to a beachy outcropping beside the lakebed.

They began to dismount as Angella cut the engine, rolling it by the handles off the road once they had put their feet on the ground again. Micah could hardly balance himself at first, but eventually found his footing before running his hands through his windswept hair and responding. “I always come here when I need to be by myself—it was the only place I could think of when I was casting the spell,” he explained. 

Angella couldn’t… teleport either. Tried to learn it so long ago but got so frustrated with it to the point of stopping and never wanting to even give it the time of day. She should be annoyed with Micah for so effortlessly casting it—and with dire circumstances no less. That said, she was familiar with needing to envision your destination before even beginning the spell. I guess panic would do this sort of thing.

“It’s… nice,” she followed up, finally letting her fingers depart from the touch of her bike as she took gentle strides towards the waterfront, peering up at the sky as her hands sunk into her pockets. So many stars, she thought. In the city, the light density would block all of this out. It was so enchantingly beautiful. 

“Besides… no one can hear my shitty guitar all the way out here,” Micah said in jest, savoring the beauty as well as he stepped up a couple feet beside her. There was just enough space for him to park on the side of the road and set up shop in the back of his car, jamming along to the tunes that would carry him through the night.

Everything felt so strangely magical, which was saying something coming from somebody who literally embodied what magic was and could ever be. Nothing about the sequences of the night were expected, not by any wild stretch of the imagination, and it was so exciting. It begged the question once again though, who is this guy? Why is he so… why is he like that?! Ever since her first interaction with him, it’s been a complete deck of cards, not knowing what would be dealt to her at any given moment.

“You know, mage,” she began, gently turning her eyes over to see the sorcerer with his hands on the back of his head as he looked to the sky. “I underestimated you. Thought you were just some nerd,” she backhandedly complimented him.

Micah smiled, his starstruck gaze unshaken as he let out a chuckle. “You’re not too bad yourself, Siren. I had to see it for myself or if the rumors were all talk or not,” he returned. It’s true, the talk of the town was that the Siren was a flagship of rebellion in their college town, but it never quite made sense with what else he constantly heard, about her sheer brilliance and intelligence. Professors constantly talked about how smart she was, speaking so highly of her and even hypothesizing the future of the world of magic because of her studious impact. 

“Hmhmhm,” Angella chuckled mischievously at the statement. “Which ones?” She got a generous laugh in response as she could see out of the corner of her eyes Micah’s hands falling down and into his own jacket pockets. 

“Oh, you know,” Micah started, his voice incredibly sarcastic. “Batshit crazy, would cut a bitch, hates school, breaks the law,” he listed off the top of his head some of the things that were said about her. It got a good giggle out of her, washing any potential regret from his mind.

Not technically untrue, she thought. The question was honestly pointless, as she knew every word that every mouthy bitch said about her behind her back, completely unfazed by those perceptions at this point. 

“Beautiful, daring, talented, ambitious,” Micah added after a pause, his sarcasm dissipating with each passing word. “You’re quite the package,” he concluded, finally turning his face to Angella, who tossed him a look of shock in return.

She was… touched, to say the least. Seldom did anyone who wasn’t some snobby professor ever say anything kind to her, barring her friends, but even that always felt out of obligation. What Micah just said to her felt so genuine and unfamiliarly sincere. For what felt like the first time in weeks, maybe even months, Angella blushed at the compassion, thankful that the dead of the night sheltered the true colours of her face in that moment.

“Thanks,” she somewhat awkwardly got out, silently taking a deep breath to recuperate some composure as the chill of the night bit at them. “You can call me Angella, by the way,” she added after a small silence.

Micah smiled, savoring the sincerity that he knew was buried under that tough exterior for as long as he could. Then, he remembered what they were out here to do to begin with, but there was hardly enough time or any real energy left for him to teach Angella any of her tricks. You know what, maybe free is okay sometimes, he thought as he turned to take the few steps needed to close the distance between him and Angella’s bike. 

The princess turned her head and watched him, admiring the way he walked as she could see small prisms of white light unfold from his fingertips. It was different than what he did to his car, and Angella couldn’t help but follow him over to get a closer look. It was his end of the bargain after all.

What the sorcerer was doing looked strange at first, as if he was just creating ice cubes and holding them with the other. Small, pointed white crystal-like forms bunched up in both of his hands before he looked over to Angella, not even noticing she walked over at first.

“It’s all about the body, and fitting to it,” he explained as succinctly as he could. “Earlier, I needed something smooth. Yours demands more detail,” he continued, gently lowering his hands to the intricate shape of the bike’s exterior, the crystals filling in the gaps of any holes or scrapes the motorcycle has needed to endure over the years. Ordinarily, Angella would be fuming at the thought of anyone touching her bike, but right now she couldn’t be more enthralled as the fragments began to connect with subtle chains of light as they fell into place. Then, after a sharp inhale, Micah blew as much air out of his mouth towards the scattered stones, watching their light diminish as the bike began to regain its form. Just like new.

Angella was speechless, both at the fact that her bike was fixed and how effortless Micah made it look. There was no way she could expect to learn that in one night, but with his words, she could begin to understand the basis of it. Baby steps.

“I’m sure it looks much easier than it actually is,” she admitted with a chuckle as she crossed her arms and slouched over in classic Angella fashion.

Micah turned over as he smacked his hands together to remove any ethereal dust leftover from his spell, grinning as he nodded gently in response. “When you’ve banged up car after car, the… time investment to master it becomes worth it,” he explained somewhat bashfully as he briefly reminisced about his old Camaro. 

Now that was a ride Angella could get behind. She felt an intrusion of thoughts at the idea of just buying him one, that way he wouldn’t have to drive that fucking dumpster of a mustang around. It was quickly dismissed however as she snapped back to reality. 

“Well, Micah, I guess we’ll just have to bang ‘er up again so you can actually teach me next time,” she suggested without thinking. God, what am I even asking?! she thought, it dawning on her that she was effectively asking him out on another date. 

Micah was somewhat taken aback at the thought at first, but quickly smiled with sincerity in response. No words, just eager nodding in the dead of the night, their silhouettes only barely lit by the stars above. 

Eugh, Angella thought as she connected with this strange feeling of infatuation, the butterflies charting their course in her stomach. Without wanting it to be too awkward, she reached for the helmets and passed Micah his before putting on her own.

“Shall we?” she salaciously asked, swinging her slender legs over her bike as she turned the key, lightning up the boulevard with a sudden beam of light, Micah’s smile turning red from the glow of the taillights. 

“We shall,” he responded, tightening the strap of his helmet before hopping on himself, this time not so shy to hold onto her.. 

Angella agreed to take him home, under the pretense that he’d give her directions, to which he obliged She flipped the kickstand and slowly began to take off, dialing into a channel that not only she liked, but thought Micah would as well, letting the melodies fill the air as they rode into the night.