Narrator's P.O.V.
The key turned in the lock with a metallic click that seemed to echo throughout the entire apartment. Kael pushed the door open and stepped inside unceremoniously, swallowed by the hostile silence hanging in the air. No light, no sound... nothing but his own ragged breathing, heavy from the sobs he fought so desperately to hold back.
He closed the door behind him and leaned against the wood, sliding slowly down until he hit the cold floor. The stench of the party still clung to his clothes, damp from the pool. He reeked of sweat, alcohol, and smoke. For some reason, the smell didn't bother him—he was accustomed to that nightlife, after all. What haunted him were the visual memories that flooded his mind every time he blinked, even for a fraction of a second, bringing back the image of him: Samuel.
Images of Samuel laughing, dancing, or the way his soaked clothes clung to his body after the pool. Beyond that, the image of Samuel with glowing eyes, delivering all that intensity which, until a few months ago, belonged exclusively to Kael. Images that simultaneously brought him joy, longing, and, above all, agony.
Kael drew in a sharp breath, struggling desperately to stay in control. He didn't want his mind to collapse right then, but he had no fight left in him. His chest ached as if a blade were slowly twisting between his ribs. The oxygen simply wouldn't reach his lungs. The pain he felt was excruciating, raw, and humiliating. The pain of someone who tried to use logic to fix his life and ended up empty-handed, alone, with a heart rotting in his chest.
"I can't... I can't take it anymore..." he whispered to himself, almost as a hollow justification.
His mind echoed only with how hard he had tried to do the right thing. Months had passed, and he had tried to be rational, tried to be "the adult," but any lingering trace of reason had died that night. He felt pathetic. The sound of his sobbing finally echoed through the dark living room, thick tears streaming down his face. Everything he had bottled up finally surfaced, choking him with a profound sadness that overflowed with nowhere to go. A pain that consumed him mercilessly, cruelly.
Kael stood up abruptly, rushing, his eyes stinging as if his tears were embers burning his face as they fell. He walked quickly to the kitchen, frantically tearing open drawers and cabinet doors. His hands trembled as he grabbed herbs, candles, salt... a sharp knife would be the key to what he was about to do. He was no master of the occult, but he knew enough to let his pain guide him—completely blind and willing to pay whatever price was necessary!
Returning to his living room, Kael took a handful of coarse salt and traced an imperfect circle around himself. In the center, he placed a clay bowl. The honey poured inside would serve to sweeten everything that had grown bitter between them. Red rose petals, to connect with the love he had lost. Cinnamon, because it attracts and reignites what has faded. The red ribbon tied with knots represented his feelings bound to someone who was no longer his—and the hope of binding that someone back to him. Kael wept. That spell wasn't cast out of hate or anger; it wasn't revenge. It was his corrupted rationality taking over, giving in to his selfish, twisted desire to make Samuel return. He loved him, he craved him, he couldn't bear the agony of Samuel's absence in his life any longer.
Kael struck a match.
The flames of the black candles burned high, casting a somber glow on his face. His tears glistened in the dim light. On a piece of paper, he crudely scribbled the name of the man he wanted back at all costs. A few more ingredients were needed. Pepper, dried comigo-ninguém-pode leaves... simple ingredients, but with all the faith he had left, he hoped they would bend his miserable reality. He needed something to change that damn reality!
"By the flame that burns and consumes..." Kael struck another match, tossing it into the bowl and making all his ingredients burn intensely. "The same fire that destroys is the one that creates. Bring back the one who should never have left my life!"
He then picked up the knife, tracing a deep cut across his left hand. Blood began to pour profusely. The pain of that scourge was nothing compared to the pain he felt inside. Kael showed no reaction, simply letting his weeping consume him. He held his hand over the spell, letting his own blood fall, innocently binding it to his karma.
"Bring back what was once mine. Bring back the one who once belonged to me. Bring my love back, my goddess! I beg of you!"
Kael tossed the paper onto the fire. It cracked with a high spark, lighting up the living room walls and creating twisted, terrifying shadows. In that moment, something shifted. He felt the exact second the apartment's atmosphere seemed to grow heavy. Ávila closed his eyes and pressed his hands against his chest, feeling a suffocating tightness. A sudden chill rushed up his spine, making the hair on his arms stand on end. Deep down, he knew this magic was no longer the natural, light magic he was used to practicing. He knew this magic would exact a price far too high, a price he didn't even know if he could pay...
But, as he watched the last flame devour Samuel's name in the dark, consuming the paper until nothing was left but ashes, he smiled. A broken, exhausted smile.
"Bring him back to me..." he whispered to whoever might be listening.
An unnatural wind swept through the room, abruptly snuffing out the candle flames. The spell went dark. Kael felt his mind spin. Without time to react, his body yielded to the pressure, making him pass out.
That was it. It was done...