Leaving lit candles unattended was probably against apartment policy and a violation of renter's insurance. Nancy had been too rushed to snuff it, or even lock the door; she'd lost track of time, and she needed to get groceries before the store closed.
The failing flame in the jar candle lit only the table around itself, and the lack of light made Nancy's tiny studio apartment into a cavern. Red wax pooled in the very bottom of the jar; the flame was at the end of its wick, and its flickering heat had seared the metal tab that once affixed the now-devoured wick in place. The flame flickered madly. It was drowning in red. Light failed as it shrank away--and then blossomed as a thread-thin piece of flame reached up and up to the lip of the jar. It wavered, but the thread thickened. The amount of flame leaning up and out steadily outgrew that which still remained at the base. Liquid wax finally swamped the wick snub with a sigh of smoke.
For one impossible moment, the unattached flame froze in place as if a mere picture of fire. Then, it bent to hang over the mouth of the jar like a folded cloth.
"hs, hs, hs." It turned the tip of itself back toward the cooling wax. Charred bits of wick adhered to the bottom. It shivered. The flame turned back and heaved itself just a bit more over the top of the jar. It hung there. With each moment its light became more constant, and its being more substantial.
It almost went out entirely when the apartment door burst open. Nancy was wrestling with grocery bags, her purse, and a phone pinned in the crook of her shoulder. The woman stopped at the sight of the folded-over flame that seemed to somehow be staring at her in turn. She dropped everything. Eggs burst, jars shattered, and the voice on the phone squawked. The flame wavered again. Nancy squeaked and clapped her hands over her mouth, but the flame stabilized. It plopped out onto the table with a sound like a popping fire. Nancy took a shaky step toward the flame, but her phone buzzed again.
"Sorry!" Nancy said to the patch of flame. "Sorry!" She dove for her phone and gabbled another "Sorry!" into it. Egg dripped from it into her hair. "Just—ah. Uhm. S-sorry." She clutched the phone to her ear. Her wide, wide eyes reflected the flame's impossibly steady glow. A sound of sizzling made them both flinch; the flame bobbed to look down at the singed table underneath it. It looked back up at her, and drew into itself a little.
"'s. ree." Nancy frowned. She reached out a tentative hand to the flame. Warm, but not painful. It seemed to brighten at her touch. It seemed to be looking up at her. But the smell of burnt wood was getting stronger.
"Hey... Val?" she said, "You know any f-fire elementals? I—huhm. I need some help."
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