Reagan and Caius
It was one of Caius’s goals to make Reagan feel as normal as possible during this ordeal. He knew that was much easier said than done, especially considering what they’d just been through together, but he was still trying. Being around their magical peers couldn’t be easy. There was no help for what Reagan had lost at the moment, but he sincerely hoped she believed it was a temporary situation. Caius’s skin tingled under her lips -- that certainly hadn’t changed -- and he lt out a low chuckle at her words. “Those were exciting times, to be sure,” he murmured, slipping his hand from Reagan’s waist to her back to hold her close. “I like to think we still have a damn good payoff ... and it’s not like either of us is immune to jealousy now, in the right circumstances.” He could think of some scenarios that would send him over that edge again, and he knew for a fact Reagan would flip her shit over what he actually had done when he didn’t remember her.
"You think so?" Reagan smiled against his skin. She felt maybe her jealousy would stem more from Caius being around women who were actual witches now than anything else, but she was trying hard not to think about that. Her brain wasn't cooperating much, but she also knew deep down that she trusted Caius, and he did love her, even if she was missing a piece of herself that connected so intricately with his. She was feeling a little better at the moment with a combination of alcohol and Caius holding her close. It was better than giving into the urge to scream and throw things. Maybe that would come later. Reagan had been trying so hard to keep her emotions from spiraling, but it was becoming more difficult with every day that passed. "What's the point if I can't set fire to anyone," she said. "I mean, I suppose I could go the old fashioned way with a match, but where is the fun in that?"
Caius couldn’t remember if Reagan had ever actually set a girl he’d shown interest in on fire ... he didn’t think so, but he was sure it had come close more than a few times. “I trust that your creative genius could come up with something,” he answered, amused. “I hear molotov cocktails are very effective.” Sure, it wasn’t fireballs from the fingertips, but still. Caius turned his head enough to press his lips against Reagan’s temple, his thumb stroking against her back. “And there’s something sexy about picturing you raining down vodka-fire on someone, I must admit.” As much as he hated to be the target of it, Caius was often turned on by Reagan’s anger. She just had so much passion, and he knew all that was still there.
Reagan couldn't help but laugh when he suggested a Molotov cocktail. "No magic required," she said. No, she had never set any of Caius's exes or casual lovers on fire, though Reagan had thought seriously about it in the past. Neither of them handled jealousy well, but Reagan was infinitely more vocal about it. And perhaps proactive. Causing problems for Caius and his former girlfriends had been something of a hobby for her, as horrible as it probably had been at the time. But he was hers, and always had been. That hadn't changed, and it wouldn't change now, even without her magic. She buried her face against his neck again, breathing in the scent of him, mixed with his cologne. "I miss it," she murmured. "The fire. I feel cold inside, like it's going to consume me."