You can also find this one shot in my book specifically for Book_Girl_09's KotLC One Shot Competition

Here is my one shot for round one of KotLC one shot competition. The prompt was to write a Brolie one shot... so here it is! I wasn't entirely sure when and if Jolie found out that Brant was a pyrokinetic (before the big fire that is) so bear with me. But yeah, that's all- I hope you enjoy!

Behind every perfect world is a burning, corrupt, and painful society. Behind every joking, smiling person is a million broken fragments. Behind every happy relationship is tension and distrust and scorn. Although for some relationships, it's not behind anything. It's out in the open.

Lighting.

Burning.

Spreading.

The Lost Cities have only been a semblance of perfect for as long as I can remember. And though that hasn't been very long, I can trust that it's the way it's been for hundreds of years. The Elvin society is a very fragile one, both for us individually and as a whole. There are so few of us, and it's important that our race continues to thrive. It's why matchmaking exists. To create perfect relationships, perfect genetic pairs, perfect children.

But I know that nothing is perfect. Perfection is only a cover-up for destruction.

Lighting.

Burning.

Spreading.

An important factor in matchmaking is special abilities. The extra powers that many Elves manifest. Jolie is her mother's daughter, a conjuror. She can pull anything she wants from the void, just so long as she knows where it is.

Of course, you never know where what you want most in the world resides.

There are many types of abilities, some that have to do with taking readings of others, light, the void, minds, the elements. And they're all loved and accepted. All except one.

Pyrokinesis.

The ability to call upon and control fire. The Council is afraid of what they do not understand. Afraid of what they cannot control. They can't control fire. They're afraid of its well-known tendencies.

Lighting.

Burning.

Spreading.

I can control it, though. The Council doesn't like that. They've outlawed Pyrokinesis, to them, it doesn't exist, it shouldn't. Instead, I've been declared talentless.

Elves have always thought themselves better than humans. Better than our talentless look-alikes. They claim we are better because we are not filled with hate and discriminating views. Because we don't judge based on race or gender or sexuality. We don't discriminate because of gender, race, or sexuality. They say we are better because we don't judge based on what we cannot control.

But we do.

Nobody decides what ability they want. Heck, nobody decides if they even get a special ability. So we are just like humans- Unfair, unjust, and discriminatory.

Those who are talentless can't be in the nobility, can't complete their years at Foxfire. And those who are talentless? Well, they can only be matched with others who are talentless, and as far as anyone knows, I'm talentless.

And you know who isn't? Jolie. Jolie Ruewen. The love of my life. The girl that makes my world go round. Because of that, we'd be a bad match.

Being a bad match is more looked down upon than being talentless is. I will never be on Jolie's matchmaking scroll. It's the unspoken truth. Neither of us has denied it out loud, nor in our heads.

Matchmaking is just another way the council controls us. They don't intend to stop. Instead, their influence lights.

Burns.

Spreads.

And you know what else burns with it? Hate.

Hate spreads oh so easily. Quick, just like fire, feeding off of others.

Lighting.

Burning.

Spreading.

We hear the rumors start.

Lighting.

We hear them filled with judgment and scorn.

Burning.

And then we hear them over and over.

Spreading.

If I married Jolie, we would be a bad match. Looked down upon until the day we die- which could very well be a non-existant day. She tells me that doesn't matter to her. I don't believe her. Even the kindest, truest souls yearn for belonging. Jolie deserves, more than anyone, to belong.

Jolie, who sits across from me now, her blond hair up in a messy bun and her stunningly turquoise eyes piercing mine. Her eyebrows are scrunched and concern is written all upon her face.

"What are you thinking about?" She asks, tilting her head a little towards the right.

"You," I respond, I can feel a smile grace my features.

Jolie giggles and rolls her eyes simultaneously. Then she leans forward on the table that separates us, "Seriously, Brant, what were you thinking about?"

I glance down at my lap for a moment, afraid to meet her gaze. Do I tell her that I'm sure it'll never work? Me and her? Before I can respond, she speaks.

"Well, if you're not going to tell me what you were thinking, I have something to show you." It's one of the rare times when Jolie isn't in the elite towers. She's nearing the end of her seventh year, her first year without me. Where I wasn't allowed. I smile at her encouragingly. What does she have?

Jolie twists in her seat and pulls her school bag from behind her. After rummaging through it for a moment she pulls out a scroll. We both stare at it for a quiet moment. Jolie bites her lip, the way she does when she's nervous. I know she wants me to say something about what's laying before us, unopened.

I don't.

"It came this morning," She says, finally. Her voice is so quiet like she thinks if no one hears her it won't be true.

"Your last scroll," I mutter, stating the obvious.

"Yep."

I remember first meeting Jolie when we were incredibly young. We both wanted the same pet Gremlin and decided to share. It was a moment that sparked an everlasting friendship. A friendship that would turn into something more. I hadn't realized it at first but the love and adoration towards her blossomed in my heart and body.

Lighting.

Burning.

Spreading.

As much as we both know I'll never be on her list, Jolie continues to hope. Hoping is what tears people down the most. I know that from experience. The more you hope the farther you fall.

"You didn't tell me you were applying for it. I thought we agreed there was no point." I don't want to see her let down again, the way she has been for all of her previous lists.

Jolie rubs her arm nervously, she knows how I feel about the council and matchmaking. She looks like she is about to say something, then stops. She won't meet my eyes. After a moment she takes a deep breath in and looks up. The resolve on her face is clear. "I just think that maybe there's a chance." She holds up her hands like she's grasping for words to explain. "I want a chance at a normal life, Bee." She uses my nickname, the one I always complain about as being too feminine, but she knows I'm a softie for it. "I know it's unfair and silly of me to hope, but I do. I want to be like Mom and Dad. I know you don't have the best relationship with your parents, but that doesn't mean that everyone's like that. Matchmaking has helped so many people find their true love." This is always her argument, matchmaking creates perfect couples, but perfection doesn't exist. I know that. She knows that.

"Jolie," I begin, using a stern tone, "you found me." Well, that sounds obnoxious. "What I mean is, we found each other already. Without the help of matchmakers. You say that matchmaking helps people find each other, who are you looking for? Am I not good enough?"

"No, Brant! You know it's not that, I just-"

"You want validation from the council, from society. You want them to approve of every little thing in your life. Why does that matter to you?! You have your parents' approval! That's all you should want- and you shouldn't need their approval anyway! The council shouldn't get any say in our relationship!"

"Is that so bad?!" She exclaims, her temper rising with mine.

Lighting.

Burning.

Spreading.

"To want to belong?! I love you, Brant. You know that. I want others to love you as well. With me. Why are you so against the council? They have good judgment-"

"No, they don't! They don't know anything about anyone and they have no right manipulating our lives!! They're just a petty group of glitter fiends who live in pretty princess palaces and rule like dictators! They're evil and cruel! Get that in your small mind!" At this point, I've risen from my seat and am staring down at her. I'm not thinking about what's coming out of my mouth. At this point, there's no return. Everything I'm saying is what's been pent up inside for too long.

Lighting.

Burning.

Spreading.

"How is this their fault?! It's not their fault you're talentless!" She's screaming too now, but she's still sitting.

I'm not talentless, Jolie, but no one can know.

"Can't we hope for a perfect ending?" She whispers.

"Nothing is perfect! It will never be perfect, Jolie!" The anger fades a little, and I realize Jolie is crying. Her hands are over her eyes and she's shaking in tears.

"It's not fair, Brant, it's not fair." She pulls her hands from her eyes and looks into mine, searching for something. I don't know what. She swallows and looks away.

Then, before I can stop her, she lunges for the list on the table and rips it open. I watch as she feverishly unrolls it and her eyes travel hungrily down the list. There are a hundred names. There were four hundred before.

None of them are mine.

After a moment, I watch her shoulders slowly collapse. She drops the list and it floats to the floor silently. Catching on the air and drifting back and forth. To and fro. Lifeless, careless, just going with the flow. Jolie wipes her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffles. She looks up at me and I can see the pain so clearly that I feel it myself.

"Do you love me?" She whispers, her eyes searching again. Perhaps she's looking for the truth, for love, or maybe for something deeper.

"Forever and always, Jolie Lucine Ruewen, forever and always."

She offers me a small, meek smile, "Say it, for me, please?"

"I love you. I love you with a passion that burns with the fire of a million suns. Every being of my body is yours, burns with your flame, and spreads throughout me. I love you. I love you. I love you."

"I love you, too."

After a moment, I walk around the table and sit next to her. As soon as I open my arms, she collapses into them. Our bodies fit together perfectly. I don't know what the matchmakers were thinking, we're meant to be. And maybe I was wrong as well, maybe some things are perfect, like Jolie and me.

"Brant?" Jolie mutters into my back. Her arms are wrapped around me, and mine around her. Her head rests on my shoulder.

"Yes, my love?" I can feel her smile at the name.

"Why are there so many bad people in the world?"

"Hate."

"What?"

"Hate, Jolie."

"I don't understand what you mean." She pulls back and her hands travel to my face.

"Describe fire for me, Mallowmelt." Another nickname, another fleeting smile. All good things happen so quickly, you have to be looking to catch them.

"It's hot, I guess... Oh, and it spreads and lights other things on fire really quickly- if it's flammable or dry, that is. And it consumes things in flame, changes them entirely."

"Hate is just like fire. Under the right circumstances, it spreads like a wildfire, changing people from good to bad. Kind to evil. Selfless to soulless."

"I still, don't really understand."

"Jolie, there is fire all around us. Real, burning fire, and the fire that lives in our minds, souls, and hearts. We try, the council tries, the people we love all try to put out the flame, but it's never to any avail. So, we resort to blaming people. We think it'll clear everything up, redirect the pain, make it all disappear. But Jolie, sweet Jolie, hate burns, it doesn't matter who set it."

Word count: 2005 (Disregarding anything besides the actual one shot)

What did you guys think?

I know, I need to update Last Day, I'm super sorry guys... it might be a while though. I'm running a one shot competion and I'm also participating in two, AND I have to write Forever, Foster... so yeah. You guys will be getting two-three updates a week though, because I'll also post my entries for the competitions in this book :)