Fighting Fyre

I'm flying through the air. Soaring. Based on the feeling of blood rushing to my head, I can tell my feet are suspended above the rest of me. No matter how many times I've found myself in this predicament before, which happens to be quite a few, I never quite get used to the sensation. I force my eyes open, ignoring the stinging and watering that happens almost instantly, so I can gauge how far I am from the ground. Not far at all. I swing my feet forward with ease, taking care not to over-rotate, flatten my feet and bend my knees into a crouching position, preparing for the landing. With a slew of force, I slam into the ground but manage to steady myself within a couple of beats, already using my enhanced senses to detect the location of my attacker. He will, of course, have moved at almost literally the speed of light to the place he was expecting me to land after he caused the old abandoned trancar I had been standing on to explode. I can smell his scent, robust yet refreshing; I can hear his heartbeat steadily keeping rhythm with his quiet breaths, which would be imperceptible to human ears. But I am no longer a mere human. Haven't been for over 9 years now. If my calculations are correct, he is crouched behind the dirt-colored dumpster about 15 feet to my left. I spring upward about 3 seconds after hitting the ground in anticipation of his next move, using the analytically acquired strength in my legs to propel myself about 20 feet into the air and narrowly avoiding the jet of fire he blasts right at me not a moment before I take off. Why couldn't I have gotten the Fire Trait? I think bitterly as I use my Wind Trait to send a heavy gust crashing into him, which causes him to tumble backward and slam into the brick wall a couple of yards behind him. I take advantage of the small bit of time his falter bought me by flipping in mid-air towards the wall and letting my full weight slam down on top of him, pinning my asailant to the ground. I hold my crouched position, my legs squeezing into his ribs to help keep him still, pressing my left hand onto his right shoulder and clamping my right one around his throat. "You're a lousy aim, Fyre." I say calmly, staring into his reddish-brown eyes. He grins mischievously as his breathing becomes heavier due to the pressure I'm applying to his carotid arteries. "Maybe I meant to miss." he says slyly, his voice slightly strained. "Why would you mean to miss?" I ask, puzzled and annoyed. "You and your asshole of a father have wanted me dead for years." I say through gritted teeth. His eyes tighten and he rubs his lips together, seemingly taking offense to this. "I'm not my father, Skye." This casual way in which we each call the other by our last names might seem harmless, friendly even, if one didn't know that we used to be extremely close. Closer than close. We used to sleep in the same room. I scoff. "You fight with him. You obey him. You followed me from the fight even after the rest of your slimeball family backed off." He rolls his eyes. "Maybe I just wanted to get you alone." he says, his face slowly turning red. As he says this, it dawns on me that if he really wanted me dead, I already would be. It isn't easy to kill our kind, but it isn't impossible, especially for someone with abilities like ours. Even if he had aimed to kill me on his last 2 attempts, from the moment I landed on top of him, all he would have had to do in order to finish me off is cause his skin to burst into flame. I know, because I've seen him do it to get an attacker off before. So, why hasn't he finished me yet? I ask myself. Now it's his turn to take advantage of my hesitancy. He swings his right leg around violently, flipping me over and pinning me to the ground with his body. He slams my wrists into the concrete and secures them with each of his hands, then stares into my eyes so intently that I can see their purple color reflecting in his black pupils. Then suddenly he leans down and presses his lips directly into mine, holding them there for at least 10 seconds. Riddled with shock, my entire body freezes, eyes open wide as they watch his close with contentment, breath hitching in my throat at the feel of his kiss. I mimmick his movement from moments ago and flip my right leg around, placing myself on top of him once more. This time, I use my powers to pin him to the ground with the force of the wind. "What the hell was that Fyre?" I practically scream. He gives me a full, and glorious, grin this time. "What, Skye, you don't know what a kiss is?" "Why the hell did you kiss me?" I say after rolling my eyes thoroughly. He leans up with as much force as he can with my assertive breeze holding him down and whispers entrancingly. "Because I wanted to." He concentrates on my face for several seconds, then heats his body temperature to an unbearable degree, causing me to jump backward in pain as every part of me that was touching him aches. He jumps to his feet, gives me a wink, and within the blink of an eye, he's gone. Bastard!