The steam drifted among the bright halogens below us to give the illusion of stars nestled in melon colored cotton candy. The darkness above was a beautiful, fathomless creature with the heavens as its infinite wings. I wasn't looking at either as Micah adjusted his hold on me to maneuver us in the breeze that constantly buffeted this high up. He hovered in midair, carefully lowering me to kneel on legs that were shaking.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Swallowing hard, I nodded, my throat tight as I snuggled deeper in the fleece blanket wrapped around my shoulders. Beneath it I wore only thin pajamas. The soft clinking of metal on metal and the hissing of steam from the surrounding factory rose and fell in soft hushes as I waited for him to touch down beside me. Yes, I was ready to overcome my fear of storms.

It had taken Micah until 2 a.m. to return last night. Despite my previous protests, he stayed away to work off the excess energy, and in doing so exhausted himself. He promptly fell asleep next to me in bed, and I knew I couldn't let things continue this way. I had to conquer my phobia. I had to try for him. I had to try for myself. I told him so this morning, and he said we could give it a go after dark.

So yes, I was ready to face my fear. However, I wasn't so sure that I wanted to do this hundreds of feet up in the open air.

Craning my neck, I gazed out beyond the rounded edge of the golden smokestack Micah had chosen, staring at its brick twin some twenty yards away. The red lights that ringed their bellies gave an intermittent pulse to warn aircraft of their lofty location. The flat top of the one we sat on was nearly eight feet across. Directly underneath us, the tubular throat was empty, void of any emission, as the boiler house the pair were attached to at ground level only came to life during the colder mornings. The steel grate covering the hole to keep birds out easily held our weight, and I crossed my legs on the uncomfortable, crisscrossing surface.

Micah crouched beside me, the lights from the factory catching the movement of his wind-tousled mane to cast lively shadows on his throat and cheeks. He was striking. Wild. I stroked the shadows. An emotion close to awe overcame me because I was able to touch someone who was so majestic, so untamed. Pleasure seeped from his soul to tickle my nose. He pushed his cheek into my hand like he wanted me to tame him. Desired it, even.

"I want to do this, but do we have to do it all the way up here?" Holy cheddar, I felt exposed, like a gust of wind might blow me right off. My attention wandered to what appeared to be the top rung of a ladder attached to the brick. Who in their right mind would be gutsy enough to make this climb? Certainly wouldn't catch me in the act.

"What? I thought you'd love the chance to sit up here in the open sky. I've lost count of how many times I've spied you staring out the window at them." His hand was warm when he caught hold of mine. "This spot is close to the center of Petroleum Valley," he explained while tucking my arm under the blanket, away from the chilled Saturday evening air. His other hand was a lingering weight on my knee. "Up here, we're high enough above the industrial ambience for you to see what I'm going to show you without the factories' kinetic signature polluting it."

My gaze went to his hand on my knee as he pulled away, reluctance evident in his slow actions. "You can't touch me while you're doing this?" My voice held a quiver in it.

"When I tap into storm clouds, I'm connecting to their tremendous power. I don't want to risk it being too much for you."

Frustrated, I sighed. "You don't know that you can't touch me." I gave him a stubborn frown as I recalled last night's brief exchange before he fell asleep, when I confessed that I hated that he was afraid to touch me with a live charge going through him.

"I don't know that I can," he said, his words laced with uncertainty, bitter and tart. He could sense the old fear in me lurking, tightening muscles and making my breathing shallow, and he was growing reluctant to see this through. "We don't have to do this tonight, little one. We could go back and put on a movie." Smelling of the sky, he leaned closer, and the urge to slip my arms around his waist increased. "We can snuggle under a blanket on the new, new sofa with a bowlful of ice cream and try to figure out which one of the seven flavors you discovered today at the store is your favorite."

Mmm, ice cream. I almost caved right there, but I shook my head. "This is important to me," I told him firmly.

He searched my gaze and finally nodded before leaning away. Open your second sight to the skies on this plane as soon as the clouds begin to flash-these were my instructions, as was the strictly given rule of "no touching."

Micah took his position across from me on the smokestack. His feet were bare, his shirt color dulled by night and cast in muted orange from the factory halogens. His back was boldly turned away from the abrupt drop-off. But it wasn't as if he was in any danger of falling. Ever.

All right sky, do your best. My chin trembled when my sapphire-transformed gaze lifted to watch a thick grouping of clouds approach, consuming the stars one by one. At first the sky flickered, and then a clap of thunder sent a quiver through me. I drew in a shaky breath. Here we go. I hugged my waist and waited...

During the first part of his light show, which he kept off in the distance, I cowered under the blanket. Every nerve ending was on edge with a fine, uncontrollable tremor. But the longer I forced myself to watch, slowly, the trembling grew quiet. My entire body went still because, in devvi spectral vision, everything I viewed was different- vivid-and breathtakingly so. The very things my phobia had deemed frightening for years were now transformed, turned into beauty. Inhaling sharply, I bit my bottom lip in awe instead of from a need to still it; I couldn't get enough. The colors! I never knew so many existed.

With every streak of lightning that he willed from the clouds, quick bursts of short-lived diamonds collided to steal breath from the darkness, these sections in the sky shattering then rushing back together. The brightest points along each lightning bolt, where physical sight deemed them pure, stark white, were the birthplace and burial ground of these extraordinary colors. Hues without names, rewriting the definition of my life. Awestruck, my gaze fell upon Micah, still in the same position, legs crossed and posture ramrod straight, and I wondered how a lightning devvi could do this. How could he simply "touch the sky" with his will and cause it to respond?

When Micah took notice of my attention on him, he dropped his gaze to stare unblinking at me, wanting me to see, to know. I sent my clairvoyance forward to tap into his soul. From this inside vantage point, I was able to watch the storm being controlled by the desires of his soul when he lifted his attention to the sky again. Every heartbeat was a command, an order dutifully carried out. Two beats of his heart and the clouds would light up. A careful slowing of his pulse and the skies would be at rest. It was odd-and a little amusing-when his gaze fell again to connect with mine, his heart gave out a sudden thud and the horizon ka-boomed with a crack of thunder. I almost giggled, and a smile broke the concentration on his face.

Connected to the sky as he was during this exchange, I discovered his elemental will was as tangible to me as any other emotion. I stroked it with my heart and, slowly exhaling, withdrew my awareness from him with an imagined "handful" of it to study closer. My god, it's warm!

"Most storms, like this one, are harmless," he told me at one point, his tone serious. "They are unconscious shells driven by atmospheric pressure. They're nothing to be worried over, really. However, those that are born of super cells are the ones that raise my concern when I'm watching over you."

"Why is that?" I asked, my voice barely heard over a succession of loud rumbles.

After a calming breath, the cloud-to-cloud flashing slowed, and he said, "Because rotating clouds are the birthplace of air umbrae, or Sky Devils, as they're called. They are an ornery sort, though short-lived, and can vary in size from what humans view as micro-bursts all the way up to tornadoes."

So tornadoes were alive?

"Sky Devils are darn near impossible to shake off your tail if they give chase. But their lifespan is literally measured in moments. If you can stay one step ahead of them, you stand a good chance of escaping."

I was fully focused on Micah when his words trailed off. "Aurora, you need to turn your attention to the sky again. You're going to miss the best part."

"What? Where?" My eyes went wide, and I searched the heavens. "Where do I need to be watching?"

"Directly overhead."

I snuck a quick peek at him when he stretched out an arm, his fingers positioned to resemble devil horns. Nice.

"Aurora..."

"Sorry, sorry! I'm watching." My head tilted back.

It originated from a single point, a rapid red glow that expanded in all directions as far as the eye could see. With the short, tragic lifespan of half a heartbeat, the crimson flash filled everything above in an instant, and then, it was gone.

"What was that?" I asked, still gazing at the sky, now dark. "And where did it go so quickly?"

"A high-atmospheric electrical discharge. It's called a lightning sprite," Micah informed me. "Keep watching. You haven't seen the best part."

My transformed eyes strained to catch a glimpse of what he was talking about. Out of the darkness a blood-colored hue emerged. Slowly, it drifted down, soon making its way close enough for me to see individual specs. "Looks like red glitter!"

"It is aether, shaken loose from the skies."

So, falling aether. Still looked like red glitter to me. Millions upon millions of sparkly flakes shimmering against the night like flurries turned ruby which swooped upon us in wafting billows, dusting us.

My breath caught as Micah's aura transformed when it hit him. The aether intermingling with his aura flowed in thin rivulets that caressed his body to turn his aura brilliant, the white light of it tinted scarlet. He looked to be caught up in his own personal storm lingering on the edge of a vivid sunset, the red, twisted light of his aura writhing electrically in his hair, dancing over his skin.

"Aurora." His transformed eyes were fixed upon me as well.

He spoke my name with a reverence I had never heard another person use, and I made my way over to him on my hands and knees, blanket trailing. It slipped away to expose me to the chill.

"My sweet, sweet Aurora," he whispered again, eyes going solemn. "You blaze as though your souls have been set on fire!"

"I want to touch you," I murmured. The light flowing around him changed color the closer I came.

What started out as red transitioned to orange, then bright orange, and now a brilliant yellow. The effect it had on him was indescribable, and I finally understood why he'd given me the aether- woven dress. This was what he'd seen: my aura's light changing color as the fabric pulsed against my skin in reaction to my emotions.

I was nearly to him when he wrapped his arms about himself. "You shouldn't come any closer," he protested, but I continued toward him anyway, only inches from his crossed legs now as his tinted aura changed to green. An electrical charge radiated from his skin. The air was sharp with its presence.

"Aurora," Micah's words came out ragged, torn. "Oh gods!

All I want to be able to do is touch you!"

"Then do it."

His eyes became desperate, and his fears tasted real, probably worrying about the time in the hospital when he nearly electrocuted me. I wanted to believe his fears were unfounded. You're so much older now. You are in control. "Didn't you say you could be strong enough for the both of us?"

"I just-I don't know if it is safe to make contact."

"Then close your eyes," I said, my voice gentle. "Can you feel this?"

When his eyes finally closed I brought my palms up on either side of his face, almost touching but not quite. Micah nodded. The tension in his features eased some to turn him angelic as I trailed my fingers along his jawline, his neck, dipped into his shoulders, working my own unseen aura over him. His pushed back like a responding force, the brilliant green light sparking against my fingers.

This isn't enough. I frowned. His eyes were still shut. My palm hovered over his forearm, the temptation to grab hold becoming too great. All we needed to do was establish a connection and never let go. Then we should be fine to touch each other as much as we want, I reasoned as my fingers tingled when I lowered them, the center of my palm aching with the beginnings of a burn. I just needed to be grounded. I mean, wasn't that how electricity worked?

His eyes snapped opened when I took hold of his arm.

My breath caught as instantaneous pins-and-needles shot into my right hand. Gasping, I was numb as ice and yet on fire as power burst through me like wildfire, blazing a quick pathway. It rushed up my outstretched arm and in through my shoulder, the all-consuming penetration coming to a sudden halt in the centermost point of my body, well below my hammering heart, where a spot burned white-hot. And then the power vanished. Completely. Snuffed out like a candle flame, and I let out a choked cough, finally breaking my dead silence. Damn.

"Are you okay?" He shifted to pull away, but I wouldn't let go. I didn't want to break the connection, not after what it had taken to get it. I placed my other hand against his cheek to soothe his alarm and leaned in, resting my forehead against his while I tried not to pant.

His wind-driven bangs brushed my nose. The slight, gentle sensation of a tickle was still achievable, real.

"I'm fine," I whispered, sniffling. I wasn't on fire anymore. My palm ached like it was burned from touching a hot stove.

Knuckles stiff, I slid my hand down his arm. Grasping his hand, I pressed it to my cheek, nuzzling his hesitant fingers. I could feel the buzz of his power, not enough to be bothered, although my center still burned where the initial surge had left off. It didn't hurt-much. I had a handle on this. Maybe I'd gotten a little stronger?

"See? You can touch me."

"I can, can't I?" my guardian mumbled back. Relief softened his expression. "I can touch you." His fingers trailed along my jawline and gathered under my chin, lifting. "I can touch you..."

Sighing, I closed my eyes, being still as he ran his hands over me.

"... Aurora?" Micah said after a long moment of silence. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"I want to know-" His quiet voice trembled, and I opened my eyes to meet his gaze. "I want to know why you can't feel this."

I blinked as his emotional signature slipped from my grasp. All that he had been emoting-warmth and indulgence, relief and trust-suddenly disappeared. There it is again, the same void from before! I touched his cheek, and then shook my head. "I don't know."

The absence of emotion wavered as a ripple of sadness overtook it.

"I love you," he breathed, and my heart skipped a beat. "I'm opening my heart and trying with all that I have in me to express it, but you always look back at me with the same empty eyes. Like you can't understand, or you don't-"

"I'm sorry, Micah." My gaze slid to one side, vision blurring. My god, here it was right in front of me, love! After all these years, and I still couldn't taste or smell or sense...anything. My chin trembled with frustration. My shoulders ached with it, too, as I said, "Micah, I don't know if I will ever be able to feel-"

"The same way about me," he cut off my words, clearly misunderstanding. "It's okay." His amethyst eyes went bright, paling in color as the sadness was replaced with pain. "I don't expect it from you, really," he rushed on, almost frightened, like he was going to screw up our friendship by admitting his feelings ran deeper. "I'm sorry I've gone and burdened you with this."

"I'm broken!" I suddenly burst out.

Oh my god. I raised a shaking hand to my face to cover my shock. I was a miserable, broken shell, sitting alone in my own personal landfill while everyone else around me was functional, emotionally vibrant.

"Wait...what?" He touched the side of my face. "You're not broken."

"I am," I insisted, my voice thick. "I can't sense another person's love. I'm so sorry, Micah!"

"I don't understand."

I sucked in a shaky breath. "I think that, perhaps, the phrase 'love comes from the heart' must be wrong." His eyes fixed on mine with the need to understand. "I think maybe love resides in the soul."

"Why else deem the one you love most in life as your soul mate?" he said, agreeing.

"I could taste my mother's love," I rushed to tell him, wanting him to know I wasn't always this way. "I really could. Tasted like-"

"Peaches," Micah smiled ruefully, and I nodded, startled because he knew. "I can't image it tasting like anything else for you," he added. "Seeing as how it's almost the only thing you're willingly to eat. Well, besides the ice cream now."

"I don't know what happened to me after she died. My two souls, they must have both loved her, is all I can figure. That's why I was able to experience the love she offered. And when she was taken from me, maybe with the trauma of it, my two souls fell out of sync or something." I shook my head. "I just don't know."

"It's been so long since she passed," Micah reasoned softly. "Maybe they just need to be reminded of how to work together again."

I bit my lower lip. It couldn't be as simple as that.

Yet, something tingled in me core deep to make me think otherwise when he leaned in to press his always-guarded kiss to my forehead, his exhale so close it stirred a bit of life into me as I drew it in, easing some of my sadness and frustration. Maybe I could benefit from "a reminder."

"Perhaps...perhaps if you express your love for me in another way?" My cheeks were hot when he pulled back to study my expression, as if he was searching for the meaning in my hesitant words.

Micah's eyes grew wide when he realized what I meant. "I'm not sure if I should."

"I trust you," I insisted. I gathered my knees under me to bring my still transformed eyes level with his. "Please Micah? Please help me."

Face relaxing, his eyes closed, only to open seconds later, his amorous expression thoughtful, like he was considering my request.

"Fix. Me," I begged with tears in my eyes. "Teach me how to love again..."

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