I was supposed to be writing a different Scorne fic for Andromeda Writes but that is going to be a continuation of this one.
This fic is in response to a prompt on tumblr about character A stealing character B's flowers (and the rest of this chapter's plot is from that prompt too). I hope that you like it.
By the way, I headcanon Scarlet as Black. I only mention it so nobody thinks they need to correct me.
When he heard the gunshot Thorne was bent haphazardly over the white picket fence reaching for another rose. His hair moved as the bullet zinged by his ear and in his panic Thorne toppled the rest of the way over the fence into the garden.
"You scoundrel!" A woman's voice shouted at him across the yard, heavy with a french accent. "I know you're the one who's been stealing my flowers!"
Thorne tried to untangle himself to stand but kneeled on one of the branches of the rose bush and yelped. "You tried to shoot me over flowers?" He yelled.
A shadow fell over him and he looked up to see a large, curvy woman with flaming red hair cascading in curls around her face and deep, chestnut brown skin. She wore an old red hoodie and held a small pistol casually in one hand. Thorne guessed her to be in her late thirties -about the same age as he was.
"No." She said. "If I had been aiming for you, you'd be dead. I just don't want you taking my flowers anymore."
Her amber brown eyes gleamed with mischief and Thorne didn't think they looked like the eyes of a killer. Still he put up his hands in surrender.
"Okay," He said. "I'm sorry, it's won't happen again."
The woman crossed her arms and smirked. "You'd better not. Those are prize winning flowers I'll have you know."
"Got it." Thorne stood up slowly. "Life of crime officially over."
He started to turn toward the gate, but the woman held up her hand and said, "Wait." She sighed looking at the flowers he had left strewn on the grass. "No reason for these to go to waste." She gathered the roses into a small bouquet, frowned, and picked several black eyed susans to add to it.
"There." She said and handed the bouquet to the flustered Thorne. "But I insist on coming with you. I need to make sure that whatever girl you're giving them to is pretty enough for my flowers." She smirked again.
"Oh no, that's okay. I couldn't." Thorne said and tried to hand the flowers back to her.
"No, I insist." The woman folded her arms again. "I'll consider it payment."
Thorne opened his mouth to protest again, but she was already walking to the gate.
"Let's go!" She said. "I don't want you to be late for your pretty date!"
"I guess I do owe you." Thorne ran a hand through his light brown hair and followed her out of the garden. He started walking down the road and the woman fell into step next to him.
"What's your name?" He asked.
"Scarlet." She said.
"Like the-" He was going to say hair, but a glare from her stopped him short and he quickly amended to "the roses!"
She gave him a suspicious look. "Sure. Like the roses." She said. "What's your name?"
"Carswell," He replied, "but most people call me Thorne."
Scarlet laughed. "Like the roses?" She asked.
Thorne chuckled and nodded. "I guess so." He said.
They passed the turn to go into town and Scarlet looked at him curiously but didn't say anything. They continued walking in relative silence until Thorne made the turn for the graveyard.
"Oh!" Scarlet exclaimed. "I'm sorry! I didn't think-"
"It's okay. Really." Thorne said. He smiled warmly at her.
Scarlet had stopped walking. "I should go." She said.
Thorne shrugged. "It's kind of nice to have company for once."
Scarlet hesitated another second, then took a step forward. "Who was she?" She asked quietly as they entered the graveyard.
"My wife, Cress." Thorne replied, also in a hushed tone. He walked over to a grave near a wispy beech tree and laid the flowers in front of the headstone. Scarlet stood a few steps back.
"Hey Cress." Thorne said softly. "Hope you're doing well, love."
"Do you visit her every week?" Scarlet asked once he had stepped back from the grave.
Thorne nodded. "Almost every week since..."
"Three years ago." Scarlet said softly reading the gravestone.
Thorne nodded. Wiping a tear from his cheek.
"My grand-mere is buried right over here." Scarlet said, walking a few yards further. "She owned the farm before me."
Thorne followed her to stand by the slightly older grave. "You were close?" He asked.
Scarlet nodded. "She raised me. She was the only family I had left." She sighed and bent to pick a weed off of the grave. "I should visit her more often." She said.
She stood and patted the dirt off of her hands. "We could come together sometimes and bring them both flowers. If you'd like." She said, turning to look at Thorne.
"Yeah." He said smiling. "That would be nice.