AN: Very short, but a bit of a sweet moment before we start heading into the really dramatic bit of the story…
KayleeAdams123: Glad you like it! Nope, not a pol-sci major either!
Frank and Hazel sat in his living room, Frank on the couch, Hazel on the floor, leaning against his legs.
(He had protested that arrangement, but Hazel had insisted that she preferred to sit on the floor anyway.)
Frank was reading Sun Tzu's The Art of War (apparently a favourite of his long-deceased father). The copy belonged to his mother, and he tended to read it when he especially missed her.
Hazel was drawing, her coloured pencils resting beside her.
A portrait of Frank's grandmother, whom she'd formally met and actually had a proper conversation with just an hour ago, was taking shape.
Frank paused in his reading, and glanced at her work, smiling when he realized what, or whom, she was drawing.
'It's a really great drawing, Hazel.'
The girl smiled back up at him.
'Thanks, Frank. I really like your grandmother.'
He ran a hand through his very short hair.
'Really? She's, well, a bit...intense.'
Hazel laughed.
'True, but I like her.'
They lapsed into comfortable silence for a few minutes, Frank returning to his book and Hazel to her drawing.
Then, Frank took a deep breath and garnered the courage to ask a question he'd been dying to for the past few weeks.
'Hazel, can I see your mark?' He paused, and reddened, remembering where his was, and realizing where her mark must be positioned. 'I mean, no, I'm not suggesting...I didn't intend...I wouldn't, I'm sorry...umm, just...er, forget I said anything.'
Hazel's cheeks pinked, and she fanned her face, slightly flustered, but she smiled at him.
'It's okay, Frank, I know you didn't mean...that. I can draw you a picture, if you'd like.'
'I'd like that. I'm pretty awful at drawing, but I'll try and sketch you a picture of mine.'
And so passed the next hour.
(Frank marvelled at Hazel's drawing ability, though he was rather miffed about the whole teddy bear thing. Hazel suppressed a giggle at his drawing skills, but kissed him on the cheek to make up for it. Her eyes lit up when he described the golden horse featured in his mark, and she told him about Arion, a horse at a stable she used to work at that she cared for and occasionally rode back in New Orleans. Frank did a mental fist-pump. Getting that horse-riding voucher for Hazel for her birthday was definitely a good idea.)
The closer to sunset it got, the cooler the temperature of the room. Hazel shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.
'Frank, do you think your grandmother would mind if we lit the fireplace?'
He stiffened.
Say no. If she knew...she'd never look at you like you were a hero ever again. She'll never see you as...
She's cold! I can't let her be cold! Besides, I can't keep it a secret forever...
He took a deep breath.
Better get it over with...Maybe she won't notice anyway.
'Umm...no, she'll be fine with it. Go ahead.'
Hazel smiled, put down her sketchbook and busied herself lighting the fire.
Frank stayed back and tried to keep calm.
Just watch Hazel. Think about how beautiful her hair looks in the light. Don't think about the fire. Don't think about it...
It didn't work. As the flames danced higher in the fireplace, his pulse quickened.
Hazel sat down on the carpet before the fireplace, sighing as she warmed up.
'Come on, Frank! Join me; you must be cold sitting all the way over there.' She turned to him, and noticed the expression on his face. Her brow furrowed in concern. 'Frank? Are you okay?'
He sighed and looked down at the floor. The moment of truth had arrived. He had to tell her. (No matter what the consequences may be.)
'Hazel...I'm scared of fire.'
He waited for her to laugh. To mock him for such a ridiculous fear.
But she didn't. Instead, she looked at him with concern, apology and a hint of curiosity in her eyes.
'Would you like me to put it out? I'm sorry, I should have asked if you were okay with it first.'
'No, it's okay. You're cold, and it's alright for me if I just stay here. Far away from it.'
She stood, walked over, and sat on the couch with him, taking one of his hands in hers.
'If you don't mind me asking, why?'
'What?'
'Why are you scared of fire? I mean, there's usually a reason for people's phobias.' She looked a little sheepish. 'I'm scared of going on boats, because I get terribly sea-sick.'
That was certainly not the reaction he'd been expecting. The knot of worry in his stomach untangling, he smiled at Hazel and began to tell the story.
'Well, I don't actually remember, but my mom told me that when I was a baby, I was really curious, crawled really close to the fireplace and tried to touch the flames. I nearly burned myself, and...'
Afterwards, sitting there with Hazel's head resting on his shoulder, close enough to the fire to get some of its warmth, far enough to be completely safe, Frank felt a little more confident, a little stronger, somehow.
Just a little, but it was strength and confidence nonetheless.
AN: Also, just for your information, this was actually the scene that inspired the entire story. It was one of the first bits written, and the first envisioned. It was also originally intended to be a chapter of an AU oneshots story (which eventually became Strings of Fate)...but it got out of hand.
