The wind whips around us as we soar through the night sky, the lights of Boston twinkling below like a sea of stars. Skye's arms are strong and secure around me, holding me effortlessly in a princess carry as we zip between towering skyscrapers.

My heart races, partly from the thrill of flight and partly from the sheer impossibility of being in Skye's arms again after all these years.

‘I just wish she wouldn’t hold me in such an embarrassing way.’

"So, Luke," Skye says, her voice carrying easily over the rush of air, "are you a cape slut back home?"

I blink in confusion, my brow furrowing. "I... I don't know what that means," I admit plainly.

Skye laughs, the sound rich. Her green eyes sparkle with amusement as she glances down at me. "You know, someone who gets all hot and bothered over superheroes. Is that why you hugged me so tight back there? Turned on by seeing a super-powered version of your old friend?"

I feel my face flush with embarrassment. "No, nothing like that," I stammer. "We don't have superheroes where I'm from."

Skye's eyes widen in disbelief. "What?" she exclaims, nearly dropping me in her shock. "I never heard of a world without capes? That's... that's insane!"

As we discuss this mind-boggling revelation, we begin to descend. The wind dies down as Skye gracefully touches down on a spacious patio high above the glittering cityscape. She sets me on my feet, and I take a moment to steady myself, still dizzy from the flight and the surreal nature of this entire situation.

The penthouse before us is a marvel of modern architecture and luxury. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a panoramic view of the Boston skyline. Sleek, minimalist furniture in shades of white and chrome adorns the open-plan living area. A state-of-the-art kitchen gleams with stainless steel appliances, and what looks like a fully stocked bar occupies one corner.

Skye smirks at me, a hint of pride in her voice as she asks, "So, is this better than the other me's digs?"

I take in the opulent surroundings, my eyes wide with awe. "This is definitely better than we could afford," I reply, still a bit dazed by it all.

Skye tilts her head, her brow furrowing as she processes my words. "We?" she repeats, confusion evident in her tone.

I realize my slip-up and swallow hard, unsure how to explain. "Yeah, um... in my world, you and I... we were married," I say softly, my heart aching at the memory.

Skye's eyes widen, her mouth falling open in shock. "Married?" she whispers, her voice a mixture of disbelief and a hint of a smile. "You and I got together after all, huh?"

I nod slowly, a bittersweet smile tugging at my lips. "Yes, but... my wife died 5 years ago."

Skye's expression softens, a mix of curiosity and sympathy in her eyes. She beckons me with a gentle wave of her hand. "Come on, let's sit down and talk."

I follow her into the living room, my feet sinking into plush carpeting that probably costs more than my entire apartment back home. We settle onto a sleek white leather couch that seems to mold itself to my body. The cityscape twinkles beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, a mesmerizing backdrop to this surreal conversation.

Skye turns to face me, tucking one leg under herself. Her eyes, those familiar green eyes that have haunted my dreams for years, are filled with an odd mixture of compassion and... superiority? It's a look I've never seen on my Skye's face before.

"How did she die?" she asks, her voice soft but tinged with an undercurrent of something I can't quite place.

I take a deep breath, the pain of the memory still raw even after all this time. "You... she... got lung cancer," I explain, my voice barely above a whisper. "We caught it too late."

Skye's reaction is not what I expect. She knocks on her chest, the sound echoing in the spacious room. A smirk plays on her lips as she declares, "These lungs can't get cancer."

I blink, taken aback by her cavalier attitude. But as her words sink in, a wave of relief washes over me. It's irrational, I know, this isn't my Skye, not really. But the thought of her being safe from the disease that took my wife away is oddly comforting.

"That makes me happy to hear," I say, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the emotional whirlwind of the past few hours.

Skye's eyes lock onto mine, her gaze suddenly intense and smoldering. She leans in slightly, her voice dropping to a low, sultry tone. "You know, we were in love when we were kids in this world too."

My heart skips a beat at her words, a rush of conflicting emotions washing over me. Hope, confusion, and a hint of guilt swirl in my chest. "Really?" I breathe, barely trusting my voice.

Skye nods, a wistful smile playing on her lips. "Oh yes, we were quite the pair. Young love, so pure and passionate."

Then I remember something she said earlier, a detail that had been lost in the chaos of the moment. "Wait," I say, my brow furrowing, "you mentioned before that I died in 6th grade. How... how did that happen?"

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Skye's eyes blink rapidly for a moment, her gaze becoming distant as if searching for a long-buried memory. The silence stretches on, feeling a bit too long, a bit too calculated. Finally, she speaks, her voice carefully measured. "It was a tragic accident," she says, her words coming out slow and deliberate. "Just a random villain attack. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time."

I feel a pang of sadness at the thought of my alternate self dying so young, robbed of a future with Skye. But before I can dwell on it, Skye shifts closer to me on the couch, her thigh brushing against mine. The contact sends a jolt through my body, awakening sensations I thought long buried.

"So," she purrs, her voice low and sultry, "after five years, any new lovers?"

Her eyes gleam with a predatory intensity like a lioness sizing up her prey.

I can't help but laugh nervously, rubbing the back of my neck. "No, actually. My mother seems pretty annoyed about it, too."

Skye's lips curve into a wicked smile. She leans in closer, her breath hot against my ear as she whispers, "Well, if you want to get back on the wagon... I'm right here."

For a moment, I forget she's not my Skye. The familiar scent of her skin, the warmth of her body so close to mine, it's intoxicating. Five years of loneliness and grief seem to evaporate in an instant. My heart pounds in my chest as I turn to face her, our lips mere inches apart.

Skye's hand slides behind my head, her fingers tangling in my hair. Her green eyes bore into mine, filled with an intensity that both thrills and unnerves me.

"We only just met," I whisper in fear of moving too fast.

Her lips curve into a seductive smile. "Don't you believe in destiny?" she purrs, her words soulful yet commanding. There's an underlying steel in her tone as if she won't accept any answer, but yes.

I find myself lost in her gaze, memories of my wife overlapping with the woman before me. The line between past and present blurs, reality-bending like a dream. As I lean in, drawn by an irresistible force, my lips parting in anticipation of the kiss, a strange sensation tingles in my fingertips.

Suddenly, to my utter bewilderment, thin streams of ramen noodles begin to fall from my fingertips. They emerge slowly, lazily, like strands of golden silk unfurling in the air.

"What the fuck?" I gasp, jerking back and staring at my hands in disbelief.

I stare at my hands in horror, watching as the trickle of ramen continues to flow from my fingertips. The noodles coil and twist in the air, creating intricate patterns before falling to the floor with soft, wet plops.

Skye's eyes go wide, a manic smile spreading across her face. Her green irises seem to glow with an otherworldly light as she watches the spectacle before her. "You're a super, Luke!" she exclaims, her voice filled with a mixture of excitement and disbelief. "It must have triggered when you got pulled through the portal!"

The ramen keeps flowing, relentless, and unstoppable. It pools on the floor, creating a growing puddle that spreads across the expensive carpeting. The noodles steam slightly in the cool air of the penthouse, adding to the dreamlike quality of the scene.

I look at Skye, panic rising in my chest. "Will it kill me?" I ask, my voice trembling with fear and confusion.

Skye studies the ramen for a long moment, her brow furrowed in concentration. The noodles continue to emerge from my fingertips, twirling and dancing in the air like golden ribbons. Finally, she shakes her head. "No," she says confidently, "it won't kill you."

Her gaze shifts back to me, and I'm struck by the intensity of her stare. She looks at me as if I were the rarest thing on Earth, her eyes roaming over my face and body with a hunger that makes me shiver. "Do you know how extraordinary this is?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. "Only one in ten million men have super powers."

"This feels more like a curse," I mutter, watching as the noodles begin to snake their way across the floor.

Skye laughs. "Nonsense," she says, waving a hand dismissively. "You'll learn to turn it off. Most supers do eventually."

"How?" I ask desperately, holding my hands out in front of me as if they were alien appendages.

She shrugs, her eyes glinting with amusement. "It's always different, but this certainly makes things more exciting, doesn't it?"

I look at her incredulously, unable to share her enthusiasm for my predicament. The ramen is now ankle-deep in my little vicinity, and I can feel the warmth of the broth seeping into my socks.

Skye's gaze turns impatient. "Try to turn it off," she commands, her tone brooking no argument.

Feeling slightly ridiculous but desperate to stop the flow, I close my eyes and concentrate. I imagine my fingers sealing shut, willing the ramen to stop with every fiber of my being. I focus so hard that beads of sweat form on my forehead.

After a moment, I cautiously open one eye, hope blossoming in my chest. But my heart sinks as I see the ramen continuing to pour from my fingertips, unabated.

"Nothing," I say dejectedly. "It's not working."

When I look back at Skye, my breath catches in my throat. She's started to remove her hero costume, peeling it away from her body with deliberate slowness. Her eyes burn with an intensity that makes me feel alive.

"Hurry up, Luke. I've waited long enough."

The sight of her, so familiar yet so different, ignites a fire in my veins. Five years of loneliness and grief bulldozed in a heartbeat, replaced by a desperate, primal need. The thought of being with Skye again, of feeling her touch, her warmth, her love, consumes me entirely.

With renewed determination, I close my eyes, focusing intently on the strange sensation in my fingertips. I dig deep within myself, searching for some kind of control over this bizarre new ability. In my mind's eye, I can almost see a glowing switch pulsing with energy. I reach for it, straining with all my mental might.

The world around me fades away. There's nothing but me and that switch. I grab hold of it, feeling resistance as if it's fighting against me. But I'm stronger. I'm more determined. With a final, herculean effort, I pull.

Click.

Suddenly, the flow stops. The constant trickle of noodles from my fingertips ceases abruptly, leaving behind a strange tingling sensation. I open my eyes, hardly daring to believe it worked.

My fingers hover over the sea of ramen on the floor, finally separated from the noodles.

I look up at Skye, a mixture of relief and disbelief washing over me. "I did it," I breathe, a giddy laugh bubbling up from my chest. "I actually did it!"

Skye's eyes flash with hunger as she looks me up and down. "Good boy," she purrs, her voice dripping with desire. She reaches for me, her fingers grazing my chest.

But suddenly, the room starts to spin. My vision blurs, dark spots dancing at the edges. The events of the day, the portal, the fight, discovering my powers, come crashing down on me all at once. My legs wobble, no longer able to support my weight.

"I don't feel so good," I mumble, my words slurring together.

Skye's expression shifts from lust to concern. "Luke? What's wrong?"

I try to answer, but my tongue feels heavy in my mouth. The last thing I see is Skye lunging towards me as I begin to fall. Then darkness swallows me whole.

As I slip into unconsciousness, I hear Skye's voice, tinged with frustration and disbelief:

"You gotta be fucking kidding me. He's hard as a rock, too. This is fucking bullshit."

Her words fade away as I sink deeper into the void, my mind and body finally surrendering to the exhaustion of making all that ramen.