Work Text:
Layla dragged her feet as she walked across campus. She would usually be all sunflowers and daffodils on a day this beautiful, but the heavy feeling in her stomach dragged her down. After being thoroughly dressed down by Gwen at Will’s party last night- the party that he hadn’t even bothered inviting her to- Will had failed to even show up on the bus this morning. Not that Layla wanted to talk to him, but still.
Ron had wanted to wait for Will to show up, but had given in to a very angry Magenta insisting that she had to speak to Dr Medulla before class about her project. There was no project- though Magenta’s angry rant had worried Zack, who then had to be reassured by Ethan at the back of the bus. Magenta had simply read Layla’s face in an instant, and acted accordingly. She was turning out to be an amazing friend. She had listened patiently when Layla whispered the whole story on the ride to school, and agreed to give Layla space when they got to campus, giving her hand a quick squeeze and promising she was a text away if she wanted to talk at all. And promising that, text or no text, she’d be at Layla’s that night, Ben and Jerry’s in hand.
As she slouched her way towards Mr Boy’s classroom, Layla spotted Warren reading his book on the quad, and sighed to herself. Even he- somehow, strangely- was a better friend than Will lately. She altered her course towards him instead.
“Hey.” She hopped onto the stone wall beside him, rousing his attention from whatever he was reading. He frowned when he saw her- a pretty standard reaction from him. What was different was that instead of returning to his book with a wry comment, his eyes searched her features.
“Who killed your calendula?”
She gave him a wry smile that likely looked more like a grimace.
“Doesn’t matter.”
He raised a brow, clearly unconvinced.
“Stronghold did something stupid, then?”
Layla dropped her gaze to the grass between them, reaching out and coaxing up some dandelions.
“Something like that. Listen, I just came over to say that you don’t have to pretend we’re going to homecoming together anymore.” She glanced up at him again, and was surprised to find his warm eyes were still watching her intently. “Thanks for pretending as long as you did though. And sorry for dragging you into this- and for never really asking.” She could feel a flush heating her cheeks at her boldness. Warren opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off.
“And I know this whole thing was stupid, I just-” She sighed, and embarrassingly felt tears pricking at her eyes. Damnit. She hadn't wanted to cry in front of him.
“I wasn’t going to call you stupid.” His gravelly voice pulled her gaze back up to his. “I-”
“Layla!”
She stiffened when she heard that all-too-familiar voice shout, and whipped around to find him just a few yards away. Cursing under her breath, she realized that the dandelions that now dotted the area around them had turned into white puffs, their rapid aging a clear sign of her distress.
“Oh, I wish he wouldn’t-” She swallowed, turning back to the boy in front of her.
“I’ll see you around, Warren. Thanks for putting up with me.” She didn’t know what came over her, but she reached out and gave his knee a squeeze before dropping down from the wall onto the pathway below.
She could only hope that Will’s newfound popularity would slow his progress through the crowd.
Embarrassingly, Will’s mother dropped him off at school that morning- after giving him a long talking to that morning, after an even longer one the night before. He was hoping to find his friends before heading to hero classes for first period, and counted himself lucky when he caught sight of shiny red hair catching the sunlight.
“Layla!” He called, waving as he picked up his pace to her.
It wasn’t until he yelled that he realized she’d been sitting with Warren Peace. An odd, unpleasant feeling weighed down his stomach. It intensified when Layla turned, and he saw a frown etched across her face.
That bastard must have done something.
Will started walking faster, trying to weave through his fellow classmates. Strangely, instead of waving back, or rising to meet him, Layla turned back to Warren. Will would have sworn he even saw her touch his knee before she hopped off the wall and made her own way through the students. Away from Will.
“Layla! Wait up!” He called again.
Several kids did move out of his way, but all of the sudden he found himself face to chin with Warren Peace. Will had been so fixated on following Layla’s disappearing figure that he hadn’t noticed Peace jumping down from the wall to block his path.
“She doesn’t want to talk to you.” He growled.
Will frowned up at him. Layla was upset, and some guy that basically just met her was gonna try to stop Will from speaking to her? Who did he think he was?
“She’s my best friend!”
Peace barked out a humorless, mocking laugh.
“You sure don’t treat her like a best friend.”
Will frowned up at him, and tried not to feel like a pouting child. A pouting child who had a sinking feeling that he was missing something important.
“Listen, I don’t know what you said to upset her-”
“I’m not the one who upset her.” Peace’s eyes blazed angrily, almost as though he wished he could set Will on fire with just his gaze.
Layla’s eyes blazed the same way, whenever she was talking about an unjust cause. Will swallowed against the rising guilt in his chest. He hadn’t done anything, had he? Because that certainly seemed to be what Peace was implying, with his indignant tone and offended sneer.
In his periphery, Will noticed a crowd beginning to form around them now. They blocked out any view of Layla he might have had, but he was sure that she was long gone by now.
“I didn’t-”
“Get your head out of your ass, Stronghold.” Peace took a step closer, invading his personal space. Will could feel the heat emanating from him in waves. “And leave. Layla. Alone.” He gave him a once over, and didn’t look impressed when he met his eyes again. “You were doing so well at that earlier. Why stop now?”
Without waiting for an answer, Peace turned his back on Will and walked away in the same direction that Layla had disappeared in.
Warren headed to the field back behind the school to eat. He did that sometimes, when he could feel a headache going on and knew that being in the echoey cafeteria full of chattering idiots would only intensify the pain and make it impossible to focus during his last classes of the day. Or when he could feel anger coursing in his veins, and knew that a mere look from the wrong person would have him calling that heat to his hands. He should have done it three weeks ago, the day that Stronghold had spilled lunch all over him. Then maybe he would have been able to avoid this whole mess.
Today was extra sunny, surprising for late September and Warren just felt like sitting outside and actually enjoying the heat and the company of silent plants, rather than the masses. That was all. It had nothing to do with the fact that the whispers in the cafeteria would all be centered around his and Stronghold’s little showdown this morning.
He was fairly certain that if it really came down to it, Layla would step in before it came to blows. He would not make her do that.
Warren settled against the sunny side of a wide oak tree, and opened up his book.
There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of merit or sense.
Warren snorted. Ironically, he was in the middle of reading that particular line when Layla had interrupted him that morning, tears in her eyes due to the inconsistency of her so-called best friend.
It bothered him. And the fact that it bothered him bothered him too. Layla had come into- and apparently, was stepping right back out of- his life so quickly, and he shouldn’t care that some stupid freshman had hurt her feelings. Unfortunately, he did care. Even back when she was just a sad face that he couldn’t quite place in the Paper Lantern, something in him cared. Layla was such a brilliant presence, and seeing her wilted like that just didn’t sit right with him.
And hearing her actually curse had certainly thrown him for a loop. The harsh words sounded almost at odds in her soft tone, and it had surprised Warren so much that he’d frozen. He liked this coarser side of her.
He liked it even more when she reached out and gave his knee a squeeze. He could still feel her delicate fingers on him, almost as though she were the one capable of burning a permanent imprint on his skin.
Warren’s musings were interrupted by the very object of them strolling through the field and plopping down beside him. Like every time before, she didn’t stop to ask permission before interrupting his solitude. She just sat right down, getting to work unpacking her own lunch.
“I thought we weren’t fake dating anymore.” Warren asked, glancing up from his book with practiced indifference.
“We’re not.” She replied simply. Then a furrow appeared between her brows. “Oh, unless there’s someone that you want to make jealous?”
Warren shook his head.
“Then you’re right, we’re not.”
After a beat of silence when it became clear that she wasn’t going to explain herself, Warren gestured between the two of them.
“Then why…?”
“I happen to like your company.” She shrugged. “I was heading out here anyways, and I figured it would be weirder for me to sit, like, ten feet away from you.” She gestured to a shady spot nearby, that looked like a perfect reading nook. If you liked shade, that is.
Warren frowned.
“But now you’re sitting in the sun, with me. If you would prefer the shade-”
He cut himself off at the devious smirk on her face- and only partially because it made her look absolutely breathtaking.
“You know I can just create the shade, right?”
Layla closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and as she exhaled a tree to their right grew out a limb just long enough to save Layla’s pale skin from the searing sun.
“I can make it bigger if you’d like, but I take it you enjoy the heat?” She asked when she opened her eyes again.
Warren nodded, holding out his hand and conjuring a baseball-sized flame. With the sun’s rays heating his skin, it was as easy as breathing.
“Impressive.”
He grinned at the compliment before catching himself, and schooling his face back to neutral. Luckily, Layla didn’t seem to notice- she had turned her attention to her soba noodles. Unluckily, her smirk didn’t last. It shouldn’t have surprised him that her lips had settled into a pout- it didn’t surprise him- but he wished he could wipe the sadness from her face. That desire surprised him.
They ate in relative silence that was actually quite comfortable. Warren attempted to turn his attention back to his book, but it was beyond useless with the distraction beside him. She wasn’t even doing anything, but her hair kept glinting gold in the sunlight that filtered through the leaves she’d grown, and he was seized with a nearly irresistible urge to run his fingers through the silky strands.
“Where’s your posse?” He asked instead, needing a distraction from his unacceptable thoughts.
Layla heaved a sigh.
“Zack’s grappling hook got tangled up in Ethan’s utility belt, and it caused more damage than you’d think. Magenta’s with them in the nurse’s office for moral support.”
Warren raised an eyebrow at her.
“Is that some kind of a euphemism or something?”
She rolled her eyes at him, but he was pleased to see a hint of a smile playing at her lips. He was even more pleased when she leaned into him, elbowing him in the side for his comment. The brief touch sent a warm flare through him.
“Ouch, what happened to being a pacifist?” He teased, jokingly rubbing his side. His breath caught in his throat when she flashed him that smirk again, gazing up at him through her lashes.
“I guess you just bring something out in me.” She murmured.
Oh. Oh fuck. The curl of warmth in his chest had absolutely nothing to do with his powers, or the blazing sun. It was much more pleasant, more comforting. It woke something deep within him, something he had buried long ago. Something hungry for more.
Warren flashed her a grin of his own.
“You know, the more I get to know you, the more interesting you become, hippie.”