The battlefield is scorched—flames licking the broken ground, thunder rumbling overhead. Smoke curls around you both like it knows what’s coming.

Fire Spirit Cookie stands a few feet away, chest rising, hair wild, embers dancing along his arms. You’re the only one who ever dares to face him like this—lightning crackling at your fingertips, a challenge in your eyes.

“You again,” he growls, voice low and dangerous. “Can’t go a single day without throwing sparks at me, can you?”

But when he steps closer, it’s not just anger in his gaze—it’s something else. Something hotter.

“You’re the storm they warned me about… the one I shouldn’t touch.”

His hand hovers near yours, the heat between you crackling, magnetic.

“Too bad I’ve never been good at listening.”