Days Remaining: 20Bank Account: ₹700 (Bungee jumping was expensive)
The bowl of noodles sat on the table like a threat. It was massive. The broth wasn't orange; it was a deep, violent red, the color of a warning sign. Steam rose from it, carrying the scent of pure chili oil and bad decisions.
"Welcome to the Fire Demon Challenge!" the waiter shouted to the crowded restaurant. "If this brave soul finishes the bowl in 20 minutes, the meal is FREE!"
A small crowd cheered. Elian looked at the bowl. He looked at the timer. He looked at Lyra. Lyra was hovering over the table, sniffing the steam deeply. Her eyes watered, but she was smiling. "It smells like pain," she said happily. "I love it."
"I'm going to die," Elian whispered, gripping his chopsticks.
"You're already dying," Lyra reminded him, floating down to sit on the edge of the table. "But if you finish this, we save ₹800. Think of the savings, Elian! That's almost two movie tickets!"
"You're not even the one eating it!"
"I'm providing moral support," she said. She leaned in close, her face inches from his. "And... if you get too hot, I'm your personal air conditioner. Go."
Elian took a breath. He shoved a mouthful of noodles in. For three seconds, it tasted good. Savory, garlicky, rich. Then, the fire hit.
It started on his tongue, spread to his throat, and exploded in his ears. It felt like he had just swallowed a star.
"WATER!" Elian wheezed, blindly reaching for the glass.
"No!" Lyra slapped his hand away. Her touch was freezing cold. It sent a shockwave of relief through his burning skin. Elian paused, leaning his hand into her cold palm. It felt better than water.
"Rules say no water until the bowl is empty," Lyra whispered, keeping her cold hand on his wrist. "Keep eating. I've got you."
Elian groaned. Tears streamed down his face. He shoveled another bite in. And another. His nose started running. His lips felt like they were inflating. He was sweating so much his shirt stuck to his back.
"I can't," Elian gasped, dropping the chopsticks. "It hurts."
Lyra didn't mock him this time. She floated up and placed both of her hands on his burning cheeks. She couldn't touch him solidly, but the aura of death was naturally freezing. To Elian, it felt like pressing his face against a block of ice. It was heaven.
"Focus on the cold," Lyra whispered, staring into his watering eyes. "The heat is just in your head. I'm right here. I'm cooling you down."
Elian looked at her. Her eyes were focused and intense. She was grounding him. He took a ragged breath, inhaling the cold air radiating off her.
"Okay," Elian whispered.
He picked up the bowl. He didn't do it for the money. He did it because she was holding his face. He tipped it back. The spicy broth washed down his throat like lava, but Lyra's hands on his cheeks kept him from passing out.
Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.
He slammed the empty bowl onto the table. CLANG.
"DONE!" the waiter screamed.
The restaurant erupted in applause. Elian slumped back in his chair, panting. He looked at Lyra. She pulled her hands away from his face slowly. Her eyes were bright, proud, and, for the first time, looking at him with something softer than amusement. "You're crazy," she whispered. "I love it."
Elian's heart hammered against his ribs. And for once, he wasn't sure if it was the spice or the way she was looking at him.
The Ice Cream Shop20 Minutes Later
They walked out of the restaurant into the cool night air. Elian marched into the nearest ice cream shop and slapped a ₹100 note on the counter.
"Two cones," Elian wheezed. "Vanilla. Hurry."
"You look like a pufferfish," Lyra noted, walking backward in front of him.
"Shut up," Elian mumbled around the ice cream. "I can't feel my tongue."
"But look!" Lyra held up the receipt, which had a big ₹0.00 stamped on it. "We saved money! And we got a free t-shirt!"
She pointed to Elian's chest. He was wearing an oversized t-shirt that said I SURVIVED THE FIRE DEMON in flaming font.
"It's ugly," Elian groaned.
"It's a trophy," Lyra corrected.
He walked out holding two cones. He handed one to Lyra.
Lyra froze. "For me?"
"Consider it a commission," Elian mumbled, looking away. "For the air-conditioning."
Lyra took the cone. She took a massive, unladylike bite. "Ah! Ow! Brain freeze!" She grabbed her temple, squeezing her eyes shut. "It feels like I licked an iceberg! Why is it so good if it hurts?!"
He remembered her hands on his face inside the restaurant. The way she had grounded him. The way she was the only person in the world who knew him. Oh, Elian thought, the realization hitting him harder than the chili peppers. I don't want to leave her.
"You're staring," Lyra said, opening one eye. "Do I have ice cream on my face?"
"Yeah," Elian lied, his throat tight. "Everywhere."
"Saving it for later," she grinned.
They walked to the bus stop and sat on the bench. Elian leaned his head back against the glass. The sugar rush was mixing with the adrenaline, making his thoughts messy and bold.
He looked at Lyra. She was swinging her legs, humming a happy tune. Elian shifted on the bench. He moved closer. He pressed his shoulder against her invisible arm. It was cold, but he didn't pull away.
"Hey," Elian said.
"Hmm?"
"Thanks," he said. "For making me do it."
Lyra smiled. "That's the job, Partner."
Elian looked at the empty street. He felt a sudden, desperate need to secure a future with her, even if it was a short one. Even if it was after the end.
"Next time," Elian said quietly.
"Next time what?"
"When I'm... on the other side," Elian said, staring at his shoes so he wouldn't have to meet her gaze. "Do they have ice cream there?"
Lyra paused. She looked at the stars. "They have everything."
"Good," Elian said. "Then I'm buying you a massive one. Chocolate. With sprinkles."
He took a deep breath. He thought about her hands on his cheeks. He thought about her laugh. The words slipped out before he could stop them, quiet and terrified.
"As a date."
Lyra froze mid-bite. The humming stopped. She heard it. Of course she heard it. Reapers heard every whisper. She looked at him. He was staring stubbornly at the pavement, his ears turning a bright, burning red, waiting for her to laugh.
She opened her mouth. She wanted to tease him. She wanted to say yes. But the word stuck in her throat. She looked at the boy sitting next to her, alive, warm, and scared. And she looked at her own hand, pale, transparent, and cold.
A heavy, aching silence settled between them. She knew how this story will end.
So she said nothing.
She turned back to her ice cream, pretending she hadn't heard the whisper. But slowly, carefully, she leaned over. She rested her head on his shoulder.
Elian stiffened. He waited for her to say something mean, or to float away. But she stayed there. A cold, heavy weight against his side.
He let out a shaky breath. He couldn't rest his head on hers, he would pass right through her, so he just tilted his head, resting it gently against the freezing air where her hair should be.
They sat there in the quiet night, waiting for the bus. Elian thinking he had made a promise for the afterlife, and Lyra closing her eyes, wishing for once that she didn't know the future.