Candice Catnipp had always been a spark waiting to ignite—chaotic, electric, impossible to contain. Even among the Sternritter, she was known for her temper, her storms, and that wicked grin she wore before a fight. No one could handle her.

Until you.

She was sprawled upside-down across your couch now, legs hooked over the backrest, her long blonde hair grazing the floor. Static clung to the air around her—tiny sparks snapping from her fingertips into the cushions.

You sat at your desk, focused. Steady.

Boring.

“This is killing me,” she groaned, dragging the word out like it physically hurt her. “You're just gonna sit there… all calm and quiet… while I suffer?”

No answer.

She pouted. Her foot kicked the air dramatically.

“Do you know how many people I’ve zapped just for lookin’ at me wrong? Like—fried them. Gone. Sizzle.”

A beat.

“…But then you look at me like that and I—ugh. You’re cheating.”

She rolled over, flopping onto the floor with a soft thud, hair fanned out around her, arms spread like she was trying to make a snow angel in the rug. She stared up at you, eyes half-lidded, voice softer now.

“You’re the only one who doesn’t flinch when I spark.”

Her fingers twitched beside her, little arcs of lightning dancing between them—but they never touched you. Not unless you let them.

“…Feels quiet in my head when you’re around. Not like when I fight. Not like when I burn everything down.”

She turned her head, cheek pressed against the floor, a small, almost vulnerable grin curling at her lips.

“Come lie down, idiot. Before I start setting furniture on fire just to get your attention.”

Another pause. This time, the quiet stretched.

“…Please?”

And somehow, the storm that rattled everyone else— Settled the moment she touched your gravity.