Fireflies Flash
Beautiful things never last, that's why fireflies flash.
Characters: Artemis Crock and Wally West
Pairing: Spitfire
Setting: Invasion - Pre-Secret Mission - you know the one
Wherever she goes, all that I know about us
is that beautiful things never last,
That's why fireflies flash.
Fireflies Flash by Ron Pope
They walk slowly through streets of Palo Alto, in no hurry to get anywhere. Their knuckles brush but neither makes a move to initiate contact, but their soft touches are calculated still. A dare from Artemis. A promise from Wally. A dare to hold on and not let go and to demand that she doesn't either. A promise that once she lets him, he never will.
A soft drizzle collects on their thin jackets. She moves to wrap her arms around herself, pulling away from Wally to gather warmth in her arms.
He stares at her. He knows her well enough to know that although she isn't looking at him, she knows he's watching. Artemis was never one to be oblivious. He can't help but think she was never one to be selfish either, but is that true? The world needs her is a good enough reason as any to go on this mission. But is it about sacrificing her life - their life - for the sake of the world. Or for the thrill of being apart of the life again. He turns his head.
His hands are in his pockets when she looks at him, his eyes now gazing out at the city skyline. He hates her, she thinks. And she can't blame him. But she also knows he could never hate her. He could never hate anyone. It's just not who he is. And maybe she hates him for it. For being so good. For not telling her to stay, for not demanding it. They fought about it, of course, but he would never ask her to stay when the stakes are this high. She doesn't think he would ask her even if they weren't.
The rain picks up but the air stays warm. Without a word, the two of them start heading into the direction of their apartment. As they start to pass the park across the street from their house Artemis stops. She looks out from the sidewalk to the gazebo nestled in the trees. The half-dead white Christmas lights hang precariously from the trim. Without another glance backwards she walks over to it, Wally doesn't follow. It's best that he doesn't.
She can't explain why - she doesn't want to - but once she is underneath the protection of the leaking gazebo she spins. Her arms out, head back. She spins and she spins and she laughs. Smile wide and heart full she realizes how lucky she is. How much love she has - love that has been given to her, willingly, and love that she herself has given. And she is all the more aware of the love she can still give. She spins and she cries. She's free.
Wally stands outside the gazebo. His stomach clenches and his heart squeezes and he will never blame her. He watches her dance with herself, completely unbothered by the world around her. He wonders if maybe she is more oblivious to the outside now than she has ever been - more than he suspects she's ever allowed herself to be. He recognizes this for what it is. The last moment of peace she'll have in the coming months. The next year is going to be hell, for the both of them. But not tonight, not in this moment. In this moment, she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
And if there is anything the two of them have learned over the years, it's that beautiful things never last.
When he wakes up the next morning her side of the bed is cold.
If you didn't read the original, be grateful. If you did, man, I'm sorry buddy.
Nat
Check out my current ongoing Harry Potter/Ilvermorny story if you want something more recent (read: sophisticated, better, etc). First three chapters are up. The fourth will be coming along shortly.
Thatcher Grace and the Roar of the Wampus
Magic is all around us - in everything. The United States doesn't believe in the separation of magic into Dark and Light Arts. Magic is not inherently light or dark. A dark wizard may use magic for evil but the magic isn't evil. The wizard is evil. The magic is just that - magic.
Black Magic is a legend, a Native American wive's tale. Black magic does not nor did it ever exist.
As unexplained sightings continue to pile up, whispers of Black Magic find themselves within the walls of Ilvermorny sending Thatcher and his friends on a perilous journey to find out the truth before it's too late.
Follow Thatcher and his friends from their first to their seventh year as they navigate their school years all the while fighting a growing threat outside of the very halls of Ivermorny... and possibly within.
Rating Subject to change as themes get darker and my characters get older, (sooner than you think). This isn't Hogwarts. We're in America now.