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“Wind Archerr! Could you hand over the basket with the lunches?”
Moonlight’s voice rings out from the vast shimmering sea of grass. The green glimmers with the soft breeze and distant warmth of sunlight. A sudden gust of wind passes causing the ocean of thin blades to rustle wildly. The woman in dark curls shrieked, a delighted, somewhat higher pitched peal. Shrilling as she clamps a hand to her hat—praying it wouldn’t fly off.
The Almighty Sea, Sea Fairy swept over to her lover, her one and only moon. She jogged downhill, the soft dew-covered grass crushed underneath her flats with each step. Reaching her arms out like a wave of the tides—a natural force of nature, attracted to the gravitational pull from the moon. The sea basically jumped into the other’s arm, pulling the dreamer into a loving hug, basking in each other’s warmth.
Here they all were; Moonlight, Sea Fairy, Wind Archer, Fire Spirit, Stormbringer, Frost Queen and Millennial Tree. The ‘Legendary G.’ friend group… On a picnic trip.
Wind Archer acknowledges Moonlight's request with a brief nod of his head, his fingers tugging at the green of his oversized scarf to pull higher, up until the fabric just barely covered the bridge of his nose. The archer, swift and as silent as the wind like always, scurries over to Stormbringer’s jeep. His eyes darted down and his knuckles found the larger basket—promises of an exciting lunch, with the aroma scenting the fresh air. He then turns, pausing for a second, then walks back down hill towards where Moonlight stood.
Fire Spirit yelps as the persistent wind assaults him. The sudden waves of gusts made his flaming hair flutter wildly and flattened weirdly upon his head for a short moment. The sparks of his flame popping and crackling like a bush set ablazed just as the air calms.
The flaming one—Fire Spirit, isn’t typically known to be crazy fond of the ‘group bonding’ activities that Moonlight keeps setting; never was. (Though purely based on his personality—many people assume that he does.) If anything he’d try to avoid these hangouts ‘cause usually it’d end with either Stormbringer or Moonlight bickering with him about some stupid shit and then he’d get scolded as if he were some toddler.
But hey, there’s food! Free food is always a nice thing to have, especially since it’s a relatively easy way to get a meal, so he may as well show up for the likes of it, after all he doesn’t need to tolerate many things. (As he’s the one that’s being tolerated lmaoo)
Spirit tears his gaze from hands, turning his head to the direction where Moonlight has previously called from. A sudden hint of cheekiness tugs at his grin, as he cupped a hand to the side of his lips—loudly announcing his next declaration of bickering.
“Hey, Moonlight! Quit being all lovely-dovey with your girlfriend and help out, would ya?”
Both of the lovers looked uphill. The woman in the dark indigo sundress whipped her head uphill, the mass of her dark purple and blue curls dancing, eyes narrowing and an exaggerated frown forming as she stared back up at where the red-head stood.
“Hey, I don’t want to hear it from you, torch-head!” She playful jabs back, her grip becoming just a bit more firm, holding her Sea in her arms, “Don’t make me list all the times I’ve seen you very openly daydream abou—”
“—Lalalala—can’t hear youu!!”
Fire Spirit immediately cuts the protector of dreams off. It may not be obvious since his dough is naturally warm-toned but his face flushed a deeper crimson as Moonlight attempted to bring up—Nevermind don’t bring that up…! Fire Spirit swears that he will actually die from embarrassment at the thought of his own… Love life.
Hahahahah… Anyways moving on from that! Fire Spirit then shoots up two fingers—pointer and middle to flash a peace sign—A somewhat pathetic but certainly an easy way of showing surrenderment (Yeah, he’s not a sore loser, he definitely can accept his own defeat…… Sometimes). Before Moonlight could respond to their silent, most definitely not one-sided peace-treaty, the man bolts, heading over to the jeep where Stormbringer frustratedly attempts to unfold a lawn chair. Likely not her own.
Fire Spirit knew he was being obvious. Moonlight obviously knew. He knew that she knew the subject of his so-called ‘yearning’. And running away the moment she mentioned him was a dead giveaway.
God that doesn’t matter!—He’ll be fine.
It’s all good.
Maybe.
Fire Spirit gives himself two mental seconds to decide; he doesn't really need to help Stormbringer, but it was the closest and easiest escape route. Second option was to help out Millennial Tree and Frost Queen. But Fire Spirit has been on the ice queen’s bad side lately—or maybe she just has a really nasty resting face, ‘cause her side-eyes are murderous! Also he’s pretty convinced (like 90 percent sure) that Moonlight may have slipped a word out to the tree guy like a week or so ago… So it’d be pretty bad if Millie brings it up if he did decide to help the two out—especially since the Guardian of Nature was one of the closest people to him.
So, quick conclusion: Storm’ is the better and probably least terrifying option.
Fire Spirit jogged over to the sage-green jeep, finding Stormbringer leaned and locked in on wrestling a folded metal camping chair.
"Need a hand, 'Bringer? Didn’t think you’d be the type to lose to a chair,” He shoots his best confident grin, trying to sound composed—or at least not the flustered Fire-that-could-easily-be-made-fun-of-for-having-a-crush-on-someone-Spirit.
Stormbringer gave a grunt of acknowledgement, not looking up from the rigid hunk of metal in her hands, murmuring a jumble of words from her mouth.
"The leg thing is jammed. These camping things are so—much of a hassle to deal with! Can’t use too much force otherwise the thing’ll snap, but it won’t come undone!”
Fire Spirit knelt down before the chair. He gestured to Stormbringer to hand him the seat. When she did he stared intently for a short moment, then gave the chair a quick, burst of heat—just enough to loosen the metal without melting the rest of the seat—and the leg snapped into loose, and unfolded into place with a click.
"Heheh, fixed it! You can really do anything with the power of Fi-yah!!" He winks, pointing a finger gun at the woman with yellow highlights, his smile bright and triumphant.
Stormbringer stares blankly at the now unfolded seat, she mumbled another few words under her breath. Something along the lines of ‘Frost Queen’ and ‘Getting better chairs’. She then shakes her head allowing her bangs to fall down, to the space between her eyebrows, tilts her cap up higher upon her head, and then returns back a nod.
"Thanks." The Guardian of the skies says, giving him a quick smile and a thumbs-up before hurling the chair over her shoulder and walking downhill to where Millennial Tree and Frost Queen were setting up the blanket setup.
Now, Fire Spirit really had no excuse to NOT be near the others. He felt his face warm up again at the thought of Moonlight's teasing. She's going to be relentless. Especially with the not-so-good-at-keeping-secrets glances and giggles that she just so happens to keep on doing when the topic leads to him and…
Oh, screw it.
Fire Spirit runs downhill, past Stormbringer and Moonlight, muttering a quick and definitely not desperate, "Don't mind me!" As he snatches his favorite pair of sunglasses from the bag of miscellaneous items that they’d all brought.
He needs a minute to cool his literal and metaphorical flame off.
Moonlight’s teasing hits a little too close to home sometimes.
Just a moment to himself, a solid ten minutes, and he’d be back to good old bright and fun Fire Spirit soon enough! The flame spun on his heel, back facing the group and started jog-running toward the edge of the clearing where the tall grass bordered a line of swaying trees, the branches of the dark chocolate colored bark swaying in the breeze.
He reached the trees, taking a deep, exasperated breath of the cool air that still carried the scent of wet earth. Fire Spirit then stretched his arms up, out—around and downwards—a circular motion of his arms before both fell limp down his sides.
Damn, that felt nice.
The Flame Guardian yawns—a puff of smoke huffed out from his mouth, then he looks up at the tree before him. He pauses and then finds a lower hanging branch—crooked and dark, but probably enough to hold a cookie. Without another thought, he uses a small burst of his own powers to boost himself, then pulls up and onto the branch. The impact made the branch shudder and shake, rustling, and a few brown leaves tumbling down to the crisp ground of an autumn forest floor.
The man settled himself on the branch, leaned his back against the bark, careful not to burn anything—If he were to set anything on fire he’d be getting an earful of scolding from his favorite archer. Not that it’s bad… But also pretty bad still.
Speaking of the archer, it’s not like—well no, Fire Spirit does have a lot to say about him.
Wind Archer was for sure someone he least expected to enjoy being around at all. If you told the younger Flame Guardian that he had feelings for—/got attached—became close friends with the ever-so mysterious Wind Archer, he’d have some sort of stroke… Or whatever kind of thing that’d send a cookie into shock.
He chuckled dryly at the irony of himself, another puff of smoke escaping his lips. Thoughts of him and Wind Archer had been haunting him more lately, it sucks—kinda—but in a good way. Fire Spirit sighs, shutting his pale lashes, daydreaming yet again.
He remembered the archer earlier, bundled and quiet—that was the same impression he had on the Wind Guardian when they first met. He always looks composed and graceful unlike Fire Spirit who’s reckless, loud, and chaotic by nature. Hah, how ridiculous of a pairing… And yet he can’t help but think about them.
‘Cause oh, there was just a brief moment when Wind Archer had glanced up from the basket earlier. Maybe it was his own eyes sweetly deceiving his longing heart—But Fire Spirit swears that the archer had sensed his eyes, because he did look back at him. And… gave Fire Spirit a smile, of some sort.
And fuck—! That smile! That fucking smile! It wasn’t even a big grin! Was all it took for Wind Archer of all people to drive Fire Spirit’s heart insane!
Yeah, he’ll admit it. Wind Archer is gorgeous. Beautiful. The type of insane attractiveness that could send almost anyone into becoming a dumbfounded airhead. Fire Spirit clutched a hand tightly at the opening of his shirt—gripping tightly onto the cloth at the sheer thought of the archer.
It’s not just physical attraction that draws the flame to the wind. Dear lord, that man’s personality and habits are so deeply attractive as well.
The way Wind Archer shifts his gaze to make full on eye-contact to show his engagement in conversations. Or when the archer was meditating deep within a foresty-grove, he’d shut his eyes and sometimes, when he thinks he’s alone, sing to the forest creatures that lurked nearby… How underneath that composed demeanor, Wind Archer has an incredibly stupid-giddy laugh—which was a sound and sight that Fire Spirit has witnessed twice so far, and he adored it.
And thank goodness the wind had blown by earlier and fucked up Fire Spirit’s hair because if it hadn’t—his face would’ve shown obvious signs of blushing. In all honesty, he had zero idea why Wind Archer did that (smile at him) in the first place… But oh good lord it compels even him more!
Fire Spirit sighs in utter defeat, leaning his head over as his arms folded on top of his knees. He was safe up here in a tree branch with his feelings, at least for now. Safe from Moonlight’s teases and more importantly the complicated feelings that burns in his chest whenever Wind Archer is mentioned. He just needs to stay put until he can bring himself to crawl back to the friend group and deal with whatever shenanigans they have planned.
And of course the short moment of calm was going to shatter sooner or later. Fire Spirit’s eyes shoot open as he senses a faint—something. A subtle presence of someone.
Fire Spirit’s flight or fight mode activated as his flames instinctively spluttered, his body stiffened as he sat up from the branch. His head snapped down, the sunglasses covering his irises almost slipping off his face.
There they were. A subtle movement—and then a very familiar green.
And oh my god, it was Wind Archer.
The archer hadn’t noticed Fire Spirit. Instead the green-haired man pauses before a different tree trunk, standing maybe around eight yards away from the tree Fire Spirit hid in. Those emerald green eyes locked on something within the dense canopy that drooped down from the offshoots above his head.
His profile was serene against the early afternoon light. Fire Spirit was about to call out—maybe crack a joke to catch the wind off-guard—when he saw the small, hesitant movement that immediately caught the flame’s attention and held it captive.
Wind Archer raised his left hand, raising it up until his fingers were just above shoulder height. Steady, firm yet also relaxed. Fire Spirit watched, mesmerized, not realizing the strange expression on his face as his sunglasses started slipping down his nose and mouth began to gape.
A tiny bird, fluffed up against the wind cautiously hopped down from the branches of the large tree before the man in green. White feathers and sage wings, with big ol’ eyes. It stares back at the Wind Guardian. Wind Archer didn't move, he just stood there, still and silent, waiting with pure anticipation.
The fiery one watches as Wind Archer holds his arm out, allowing the creature to approach him on its own free will. When the fluff ball of feathers landed on his finger he used his other hand to delicately pat the bird on the head with his pointer, causing the tiny thing to chirp affectionately.
The archer’s face is unreadable for a moment, but soon the sharp features of Wind Archer’s naturally inscrutable countenance softened as he tilted his head to observe the small creature. Unknowingly mimicking the head tilt of the bird. And then he smiles! Like—like a painting of a goddamn goddess!
Fire Spirit was utterly transfixed. Disgustingly riveted. The sight was like a movie scene. Hell—It was like those fancy photo shoots! The ones with sexy-hot models, gorgeous idols, and handsome actors… Only, Wind Archer could fit into all of those categories! The sunlight rays that crept through the thick sea of leaves, and reflected off his face so perfectly. Capturing his features and making him look if not already pretty face into a...
An entire ethereal dream, dude.
The Flame Guardian was so compelled that he forgot that he was only, just on a mere branch. He unconsciously leaned forward on the thin seat trying to get a better glimpse. A careless mistake on his end as suddenly, the branch under Fire Spirit snaps.
“Oh ShIT!—”
The Flame Guardian’s yelp quickly got choked out as gravity brought him down upon the earth. Plummeting towards the roots of the tree. He landed hard in the underbush, the brittle half-dead leaves cushioning his fall only slightly. Causing the man to groan in pain.
Wind Archer instantly turns to the direction of the sound as the small bird flapped away panicked at the sudden distortion in the awfully quiet environment. Viridescent eyes catching the light as he moved his head swiftly. Sharp and alert—the legendary Wind Guardian in him taking over for a split second.
“Who dares go there?”
That was until his eyes landed on the familiar fiery form of Fire Spirit pathetically laying(?) in a crushed bush. Fire Spirit noticed Wind Archer’s gaze and then shot him an awkward smile and a thumbs up. The archer’s tension melts, furrowed eyebrows replaced by a softer gaze, but still warped with mild concern.
"Oh. Fire Spirit…?"
Wind Archer says loud enough so that the Flame Guardian could hear him from a distance. He shifts his heel, then approaches the bush that Fire Spirit laid in, "I... I didn't see you there."
Fire Spirit groans in the bushes, feeling suddenly exposed. The sunglasses he wore seemed to do nothing to hide the warmth that rushed back into his cheeks. "Uh, haha heyy Winds… Just needed a minute. Moonlight was being… Moonlight. Y’know?"
He waves a hand dismissively, trying to recapture his usual bravado. Ignoring the fact Wind Archer was staring down at him as he remained positioned on top of the bush awkwardly.
Lord, if he could just sink into this very bush and disappear he would.
Fire Spirit rambles on, hoping to take the attention off his previous fumble—of falling from a tree, "Anyways—Er, nice trick with the bird though. Kinda reminds me of those uhm… like a Princess in those Disney movies, ya know…?"
Wind Archer mouth curved, a genuine curl of the lips that makes Fire Spirit's face heat up a little. "They trust the quiet," He says simply, tucking his hands into the deep pockets of his trousers. He takes a single, slow step closer, closing the distance between them just slightly.
“Do you… Need help…?” Winds gestured his calloused fingers to Fire Spirit, reminding him that he is in fact—still in a bush.
Fire Spirit’s mind goes blank. Forgetting the pathetic event of him falling—he stares at his legs that hang over the edge of the bush—and he chuckles awkwardly as his own cheeks suddenly felt like it burned a lot hotter.
“Ah—Yeah. Crap—Right, rightt… Totally forgot about that hahaha…” The flame shifts his arms attempting to find ground, or something to get a hold of so that he could push himself up.
Wind Archer nods and then takes another step or two towards Fire Spirit, arms reaching out. Catching the Spirit off-guard immediately.
“Whah—? Winds what are you doing—?”
Wind Archer’s gaze locks onto Fire Spirit’s eyes, he then gestures a motion of scooping the other up in his arms.
“You’re unable to get up, you’re probably injured in some way… Allow me to…?”
“Huh?
…What!?”
Fire Spirit’s face deepened to a red that matched the lava within Dragon’s valley, damn maybe even redder than that. His blazing hair flared up again, sparks and flames warming with embarrassing amounts of released heat.
The idea of Wind Archer—Being in Wind Archer’s arms?!? Like??? How—what? Where or when did Wind Archer get the balls and guts to ask shit like that?!? Fire Spirit can’t help but think—and goodness gracious the image of him in the archer’s arms. Being held by firm and steady hands; potentially his head resting against his chest against Wind Archer? The Wind Archer that haunts his everyday mind?
Oh good lord.
“Nonono!!” He shrills, the words escaping in a jumbled bunch as another heated puff bursted out. He scrambled his hands down, hoping for some form of leverage beneath him. Unintentionally sounding a lot more panicked than he hoped for—God this man only keeps fumbling!
“I’m good! Fine! Very fine actually! It’s quite—shit! Comfortable here…!” He forces a prideful grin on his face—praying that he doesn’t look as pathetic as he feels. Wind Archer freezes in response, his concerned expression twisting into more confusion. He tilts his head—similar to the way he had cocked his head with the bird from earlier.
“Are you sure? You do not—”
Fire Spirit pushed hard against something, straining his shoulders and winched hard as some branch—or stick?—pierced the back of his neck. And with a sharp groan he managed to plant his feet down—pulling his upper torso off and out of the utterly flattened bush. He dusts the ends of his arms and straightens his back, jabbing a thumb at his own chest.
“See? All good? Afterall I’m the, one and only, Flame Guardian. Not some regular old cookie that needs the help of a Wind Guardian!” Fire Spirit says, he then pauses as there was a silence that stretched out for far too long to not be awkward. His eyes blinked as Wind Archer seemed to blankly stare at him… intensely…
“Windy… Uh, haha… You good?” Fire Spirit interrupts the silence. His false confidence faltering at the sheer thought of Wind Archer studying him… Like that.
“Ah—?” Wind Archer blinks, and then blinks again–shaking his head as if he needed to clear his mind. “Oh. My apologies, I got… Distracted.”
“Huuh, zoning out as I, the Fire Spirit Cookie, is talking to you? Oh man, Windy. Just say you hate me already.” Fire Spirit dramatically slouches over, with a huge exaggerated frown on his face—hell he might as well tear up just for the sake of the fun of it at this rate.
Wind Archer’s eyes widened in mild concern and confusion—at the realization that the flaming one was only putting on an act he chuckled and shook his head. “You are well aware that I listen to you talk often, no?”
“…Weeeell, I suppose it’s not enough to my liking. Beesidess, you love hearing my voice dontcha?” Fire Spirit stood back up straight again, shooting back a grin at the green one. He makes a check mark shape with his pointer finger and thumb, positioning that hand right under his chin.
Wind Archer returns a smile, gentle and bright like always… The archer then nods his head again.
“Hm, perhaps.
...Why me though?”
Wind Archer’s gaze is fixated on Fire Spirit, and him only. Immediately causing the flame guardian's brain to shut down from the overheating cogs and wires that are constantly running in the chaos that makes up his mind.
“—Huh?”
“Of all guardians, why talk to me?” Wind Archer pauses, a heavy breath and a slight fidgeting of the end of his scarf. “… I believe anyone would think that you’d prefer to be around—I suppose—more… exciting people?”
“I mean… Why not?”
Wind Archer stared blankly again, but with more of an ‘Are we serious?’ undertone. And soon a genuine laugh escapes the flaming ones’ lips, soft and a small pop of sound. He gestures to the sunny spot where the bird had been.
"Joking, joking! Ah. Well, seriously though… You’re not crazy exciting—unlike me—Duh. But, you're—what’s the word again?—Composed! Enough that a bird trusts you… NOT—saying that everyone else aren't, but…”
Fire Spirit gaze flickered, the thumping in his chest–was it his heart?–ringing in his ear. Why was he feeling so nervous? Just be honest–!
“…You’re someone that can handle my flames—not just tolerate… So it’s nice… Talking with ya… Y’know?”
Wind Archer’s deadpanned face fades, he nods, accepting the compliment without fanfare, a faint pink hue dusting his ears. He lifts his hand—the same one the bird had landed on—and gestures toward Fire Spirit’s vibrant, flaming hair.
"It looks a little disheveled…" Wind Archer voice barely a whisper. Before Fire Spirit can respond, the archer takes another few steps closer—too close, and his fingers gently brush the fiery locks near Fire Spirit's temple.
Fire Spirit freezes as he feels the minty scent of fresh autumn leaves brush upon his face—it was such a short moment. But in his hazy lenses everything seemed to have slowed down and froze… His eyes watched as the absolute drop-dead ethereal, majestic god of the name Wind Archer carefully ran his fingers through his hair.
It's a small, fleeting touch, but it shocked Fire Spirit, instantly sending an overwhelming feeling of… Electricity?? Warmth? Just an overwhelming sensation that made Fire Spirit feel the need to just spontaneously combust from the sheer amount of 'holy shits' that's been looping in his mind repeatedly within the last 15 seconds. The heat of Fire Spirit's skin instantly flared, his whole body probably was producing smoke–and the heat certainly doesn't compare to the coolness of Wind Archer’s gentle and soft fingers.
"A leaf." Wind Archer explains, pulling away and showing Fire Spirit a tiny, brown scrap of dried foliage. He allows it to fall out from his hands, the breeze then blows it away—causing the dead leaf to dance and soon fall on to the ground. Green eyes meet Fire Spirit’s gaze, wide and earnest.
Fire Spirit can only stare, his usual flamboyant way with words caught in his throat, and soon a bright blush spreading across his face, far more intense than when Moonlight had teased him. It… it was a touch.
…From Wind Archer.
Holy shit, he might actually undergo cardiac arrest.
Fire Spirit swallows hard, jaw shifting with each heavy breath as if the words would somehow assemble themselves if he tried hard enough. They didn’t. Instead, a nervous laugh bubbles out of him—far too loud to not be awkward, and definitely too sudden and out of place.
“Hah—wow. Uh. Ahahah… Thanks?” Fire Spirit runs his hands through the side of his cranium, immediately regretting it when his fingers brush against the lingering warmth Wind Archer’s touch had left behind. His flames flicker uncertainly, dimming, then flaring again like they can’t decide what emotion to settle on.
Wind Archer notices.
Of course he always notices.
The archer’s gaze dropped, just briefly, to the faint curl of dusty smoke rising from Fire Spirit’s shoulders and already flaming hair.
“…You’re overheating,” The Wind Guardian observes, not harsh but certainly candor.
Fire Spirit stiffened, spine straightened and immediately shot back with a defensive tone. “I am not.”
“You are.” Wind Archer replied with a tone as calmly as a morning breeze in the early spring.
“I–Well you're talking to the Flame Guardian here!” Fire Spirit jabs back, pointing a thumb to his own chest with a particularly awkward smile.
Wind Archer hummed, unconvinced.
And the sound—soft and thoughtful—sent a stupidly silly, and unwanted jolt straight through Fire Spirit’s chest. Striking his chest with the amount of force that could send his head-over-heels heart to fly right out of a window if there were one nearby. He clenched his fists, the dull nails digging into his palms, mentally grounding himself.
“Look,” Fire Spirit said quickly, words tumbling over each other now, “If this is about me crashing the whole bird moment–thing, I didn’t mean to–okay? I was just resting. And sitting–in a tree. Very normal Elemental Guardian things if ya ask me.” (Because according to his logic: Trees = Nature = Elements)
Wind Archer’s lips twitched, and he pressed his lips tightly together in an obvious intent of hiding his own laughter.
“You fell out of the tree.”
“You didn't see that.”
A pause. Then Wind Archer surprised Fire Spirit yet again.
“I don’t mind that you saw,” The wind says.
Fire Spirit froze. And Wind Archer met his gaze this time, emerald green eyes filled to the brink with sincerity. “Me with the sparrow, I mean. Your sudden appearance. It didn't feel… It wasn't… Not necessarily intrusive.”
Fire Spirit’s chest tightened. He hadn’t expected that. Didn't think that Wind Archer would acknowledge him like that—like his presence mattered. Like he wasn’t just tolerated, or humored, or gently redirected away from the quieter spaces. As if he truly did belong.
“Oh.” The arrogant and typically Flame Guardian said, far too quietly for the norm.
Wind Archer shifted his weight, fingers brushing the edge of his scarf again. A habit. A nervous gesture, maybe. Fire Spirit noticed. Of course he noticed.
“You’re observant,” Wind Archer continued. “More than you pretend to be.”
Fire Spirit huffed. “Careful. You keep talking like that and I might start thinking you actually—”
He forces himself to halt mid-sentence. And fuck, his mouth just keeps running without a second thought doesn’t it?
Wind Archer waited, waited for Fire Spirit to finish his train of thoughts.
Fire Spirit’s heart pounded so loudly in his own ears, he was completely convinced the archer could hear it.
“…Like me,” Fire Spirit eventually choked out, finishing the barely audible sentence.
The breeze conveniently froze. Just enough to make the moment feel suspended, as if the world was holding its breath for whatever events are to unfold within the next few moments. Wind Archer doesn’t look away.
“I do,” He said, gaze gentle but affirming.
Fire Spirit’s flames flared—bright enough to light the air around his head in warm orange-tone. He sucked in a sharp breath, panic and hope colliding in his chest.
But obviously the hope was only temporary.
Wind Archer doesn’t like him the way Fire Spirit does. He probably only meant it in a platonic friendly way. Wind Archer was naturally kind and peaceful to pretty much any being, so why would the way he acts towards the Flame Guardian be any different? It's only a mere way to show sympathy but not actually help with his conflicting hurricanes of emotions.
“Y–Yeah?” Fire Spirit laughed weakly. Flashing a forced awkward and nervous grin. “I mean—obviously. Who wouldn’t. I’m charming. And hot. Literally.”
Wind Archer smiled, small and fond. “You’re also kind under that cocky shell of yours. You listen when you think no one notices. And there's plenty of other things that show you do care.”
That did it.
Fire Spirit turned away sharply in response, pressing his nails firmly into his palms, as smoke poured between his fingers. He huffs out—and his warm toned-skin flushes another notch of red as he raises a hand to his face–covering the majority of the lower half of his face.
“Oh my—Fuck. Stop… You’re gonna—You can’t just say stuff like that, Windy.”
Wind Archer took a small step backwards, a behavior of moving away just enough to give the disoriented flame some space rather than pressing forward.
“I’ll stop,” The archer said softly like he always does. “If you want me to.”
The forest seemed to hold its breath with them at that moment. Overhead leaves rustled faintly, stirred by a breeze that Wind Archer unconsciously summoned, perhaps an act that he had just become used to doing alone. Embers drifted from Fire Spirit’s shoulders like nervous thoughts escaping him, dissolving before they could fall.
Fire Spirit's eyebrows scrunched up at that, squeezing his eyes shut, he silently cusses at himself, at his own stupidity and arrogance. At his lack of self-control. At the traitorous way his chest ached and so desperately wanted to reach out to this man named Wind Archer.
God this was stupid.
Fire Spirit knew better than this. He always knew better. Compliments didn’t mean anything—people said nice things all the time. Hell, he was the Flame Guardian! He gets praised for his strength and power all the time! Wind Archer was just kind enough to compliment him like that. Thoughtful. Gentle in a way that he didn’t demand anything back. And that was exactly the problem.
Because Fire Spirit wants to demand more.
He hated how easily Wind Archer unintentionally slipped past his walls. How a few quiet observations could cause his years of built up walls, could strip him down to something raw and vulnerable to anything and everything. It felt dangerous standing there, in front of the one behind it all–yet also not at the same time.
The heat from his aching chest only continues to bleed from his skin, conflicting emotions flaring too close to the surface. If he let himself fall victim into this, really becoming vulnerable, he might only hurt himself yet again in the end, burning himself out completely.
Fire Spirit’s fingers twitched, sparks jumping at the motion. Just laugh it off. To spin it into a joke—Bury it under something. Anything.
The words lodged in the flame spirit’s throat instead. Because some small, reckless, and pathetically idiotic part of him wanted to believe that Wind Archer saw him. Not the guardian. Not the flame. Him.
And dear witches, that hope was absolutely terrifying.
Man, screw the sad, mopey-shit, he’ll just let himself be delusional for now and deal with the mixed signals later.
Fire Spirit eventually lowered his hands—the fingers shielding his face dragging down his cheeks. He didn’t look at Wind Archer right away, only staring down at the dirt that made up the clearing’s surface. His voice came out quieter than usual, stripped naked of his usual pride and cockiness.
“…Don’t—”
Fire Spirit exhales sharply, praying to every god—hell, every almighty higher being that his face isn't selling his own emotions right now. He then shakes his head.
“No… There's no need—for that…”
Wind Archer’s breath hitched.
Fire Spirit finally brings himself to meet the eyes of the archer's once more. Lifting his head up higher than shoulder level, flames seemingly calmer now, then points a finger at the archer, as if he's about to accuse the latter of a crime.
“You say stuff like that like it’s nothing, and I—”
He cut himself off, huffing out a quiet, frustrated laugh.
“Just—” He swallows hard, “—maybe give me a second to… uh, y’know… Yeah?”
Wind Archer’s eyes softened, he chuckles—the tension in his shoulders noticeably less strained, and more relaxed. He nodded in response with that goddamn smile of an angel.
“Of course.”
Their silence and peace was inevitably disrupted. From the distance clearing, Moonlight’s voice rang out through the gaps of the forested pillars—far too ardent and joyous for the Flame Guardian’s liking.
“Fiiire Spiiirit!!! If you’re dead, we’re starting without you!”
Fire Spirit flinched like an explosion had been set off in the distance—instantly snapping him and the Wind Guardian out of their little moment… Of sorts. He rolled his eyes, tilted his head back, allowing his shoulders to slump, and reacted with an exaggerated groan.
“She’s the worst.”
Wind Archer huffed out a quiet chuckle from under his breath. A soft ringing that muted out Fire Spirit's entire sense of audition aside from the warm sound of laughter.
They stood there, lingering and taking in the moment—close and unfinished—before Fire Spirit finally silently accepted his fate, turned toward the clearing.
“C’mon,” Fire Spirit said, glancing back over his shoulder at the Wind Guardian with a crooked grin. “Let’s go before she decides to come looking.”
Wind Archer fell into step beside him without a word. He just walked with him, steady and easy, like it was the most natural and normal thing in the world (Which technically it is, but FSC is just sooo pathetically in love it isn't to him). Fire Spirit could feel the cool brush of a breeze at his side, a feeling lingering in his chest in a way he refused to think too hard about.
Fire Spirit hated—absolutely hated—how much he hoped Wind Archer would keep walking beside him.