Day Four — Touch

A touch is powerful. There is no denying it.

From the time one is born, they crave the touch of another. A touch from a loved one imparts comfort, a sense of safety, and the silent message that one is wanted and loved. A touch can settle a baby's cry, ease the pain of injury, and simply make the world a less scary place. From the wisest witch to the most savage beast, a simple touch can be the most soothing balm to the body and soul.

But touch can just as easily be the opposite.

A touch can bring pain as well as pleasantry. Offer agony in place of assurance. Harm rather than heal. Open-handed slaps to close-fisted punches and everything in between, a touch can bring suffering. Especially when delivered by one who should be trusted.

Hunter was far more used to the latter kind of touch than the former, thanks in mostpart to Belos. Belos, other scouts, on occasion the coven heads. They all seemed to find the necessity, and sometimes even delight, in smacking him around, knocking him aside, pushing him down. Belos made it even worse with beatings, breaking bones, occasional slashings from his "uncontrolled" cursed form.

Needless to say, touch had long been associated with pain. Even so, some part of him that is common to all living things craved the gentle head pats and hair ruffles that Belos would sometimes give out when he was pleased. It was a powerful form of manipulation, and one that was difficult to break.

Then he met his friends, who began to show him that a positive touch did not have to be earned. Luz's hugs, Gus's high-fives, Camila brushing his hair with affection, even Amity's occasional fistbump and Vee's handshakes were like a trickling spring in the desert of his battered soul.

And then there was Willow's gentle … everything, that all seemed even more powerful. Her tender hugs, sweet shoulder bumps, the times she would take his hand in hers to calm him or to reassure him, and so many more. It made warmth flicker in his galdorstone heart and under his skin, moths war in his belly, and his knees shake — all in the most wonderful of ways.

Two and a half months of that was enough to have his body begin to let its guard down, to stop twitching or flinching at unexpected or even expected touches. To let him relax and appreciate that he had friends.

Then Halloween happened. The possession, Flapjack's sacrifice. Being pulled back from death. For anyone, that would set them back a few steps. Or more than a few steps.

But Willow's pain had pushed him to claw those steps back. He'd poured his heart out to her about how much her and Gus meant to him, and then they'd been blasted to the Skull and Willow … Well, an understanding had been made, he thought. He'd had the first touch in a long time that had not been unwelcome in the slightest, his pinkie wrapped around Willow's and her around his.

A wordless promise.

After everything else happened, it took a little time to talk. Willow was reuniting with her dads, as were everyone else with their loved ones, forming a new government structure began, which meant reconstruction soon followed. And for some strange reason, Camila and Darius got into a heated debate about where it would be best for Hunter to live, mediated by Raine and Eda.

The choice was ultimately his, and Hunter had chosen to live in the Noceda household while commuting to the demon realm.

With such chaos, it had been difficult to find time to define their relationship. Difficult, but not impossible. They'd confessed out loud in the basement and embraced in joy. Afterward, Willow had offered her hand to him and, after a long moment's hesitation, Hunter had accepted it.

After that, it wasn't so much Hunter's upbringing causing tension as it was … inexperience causing awkwardness. They talked, of course, and realized that neither had any experience in romance. So they decided to take it slow and see where things went. Some days were easy and natural. Other days Hunter got caught up in his head or Willow feared she was pressuring him.

For several weeks, hand-holding was the most they could do besides hugs.

Which is how Willow found herself sitting in Camila's living room with a cup of tea, the woman herself giving a calm, reassuring smile. It was as if she knew exactly why Willow had come over while Luz and Vee were hanging out with Vee's friends, and Hunter was having one of his lessons with Dell.

"So, Camila," Willow started, already feeling herself blushing, "can I ask you something?"

"Of course, sweetie," Camila said with a crinkly-eyed smile. "May I ask, is this about Hunter?"

"Was it that easy to realize?" Willow asked with a sigh.

"I can't think of anything else that would have you this nervous, Willow," she chuckled. She tilted her head and set down her own tea cup. "Is everything alright between you?"

"Oh, yes!" Willow said, perking up. "It's wonderful!" Her smile faltered as she collected her thoughts. "It's just … I'm worried about him. You, erm, you remember how he was when we first arrived here?"

"You'll have to be more specific, Willow," Camila said wryly, with a gentle smile. They all knew that Camila considered all of them her kids, much as Eda did, but Hunter held an extra special place in Camila's heart, in the same vein as Vee. Hunter was, as far as she was concerned, her son in all but blood. "There was much off about him when you all arrived."

"How he was with contact," Willow elaborated.

Camila's eyes widened and bit and her mouth fell open in a knowing "ah." She got it.

"That Halloween night didn't do his personal growth any favors," she acknowledged. They were in agreement that Hunter had miraculously — and through his own hard work — not entirely backslid. Not to mention he had reclaimed much of his progress in the time since. It was honestly astounding, and made them both proud in similar and different ways.

"I just want to know how to help him," Willow said sadly. "I've tried so hard to give him space and let him come to me. But I'm scared that he might think I'm giving up on him, that I don't want to be with him anymore."

"And nothing could be further from the truth, could it?" Camila noted warmly. She hummed in thought and asked, "Why come to me, Willow? I'm glad you did, of course, but why not talk to your dads?"

"I wanted advice from a woman," Willow explained. "Eda's way too abrasive and Lilith doesn't understand. Besides," she shrunk down on herself a little, as if admitting a dirty secret, "I kinda feel more comfortable with you than anyone except my dads." She sighed. "And even then, in a few ways, more than them."

Camila blinked away tears behind her glasses, affection burning in her heart. She had adopted all of Luz's friends in her heart, but this went a step further. It did not take a genius to see that there were many similarities between Willow and herself. On the surface, both were plump, bespectacled, and preferred their hair shorter than usual. (Many would say both were very attractive, too.)

On a deeper level, both were calm, level-headed, intuitively nurturing, and all-around of a motherly disposition. They generally enjoyed quiet activities, though Willow did love her flyer derby, which Camila was quickly becoming a fan of in her own right. And they were both fiercely protective of those they loved, ready to face any and all odds to defend their friends and family. They had even both been bullied in school, something that had left scars that led to mistakes down the line that they were still learning from.

"Willow, how well would you say you and Hunter communicate?" Camila asked.

"Huh?" Willow asked, then blinked and thought it over. "Um, well … Pretty good, I guess?" Camila silently commented that they did so very well for kids their age.

"Do you fight often?" she asked.

"No," Willow said without hesitation, then winced and elaborated. "I mean, we don't always agree, but we discuss instead of argue."

"Good, that's a wonderful sign," Camila smiled. "I think," she huffed a laugh, "from my eight years of marriage, that you should use those skills to approach this issue."

"I don't understand," Willow admitted.

"Talk to him, Willow," Camila gently stressed. "Clear the air. Don't keep guessing about what he wants, and don't have him simply guessing about what you want. Which is just as important, I might add." She placed her hand on her heart. "Be intentional about exploring touch with each other, on the same page."

Willow thought that over, eyes tracking behind her glasses as if reading a book. She nodded with a small smile and lunged at Camila for a hug. "Thank you, Camila," she whispered.

"You are very welcome, Willow," Camila said, gladly returning the hug. Even if Willow might have popped her back. Heavens, that girl was strong!

"And that's why you asked me here, on this romantic picnic?" Hunter asked.

"Mm-hmm," Willow hummed, nervously twirling one of her braids. "Since Camila suggested communication, I thought spelling it all out would be a good start," she giggled in a strained way. "Right?"

"Well, at least it leaves no room for misunderstanding," Hunter grinned. "Which is really, really," his face turned deadly serious, but somehow still teasing, "really," his expression was back to normal, "important for me."

"Yeah," Willow sighed. She bit her lip and offered her hand. Hunter's grin faded into a contented smile, his cheeks pinking to match Willow's, and he took her hand fully. He shifted and offered his shoulder, his movements stiff and new, but genuine. Willow settled her head on his shoulder and relaxed into him, smiling sweetly as she felt him relax right back.

"I may have asked your dad for advice, too, today," Hunter admitted, and Willow could almost feel the heat radiating from his blush.

"Really?" Willow asked with a small, surprised smile. One of the most harrowing habits to break from him had been his strong tendency to admit when he needed help, having been trained to consider it an unacceptable sign of weakness. Which made him reaching out a huge achievement in Willow's eyes. "What did he say?"

"Pretty much the same thing as Camila," Hunter said breezily. "Though he did warn me to be a gentleman."

"A gentleman?" Willow asked, her tone wry.

"He did the thing where he flashes his glasses and everything," Hunter chuckled weakly. "Gilbert seems way warmer to me than you papa, but I gotta admit …" He paused before continuing, "… he scares me more, I think."

"Aww," Willow cooed and nuzzled the top of her head into his jaw.

Hunter seemed to squirm a bit before she felt a faint pressure on the top of her head. It took a moment to register that Hunter had kissed her head. She moved away to properly look at him in faint shock.

"Was that okay?" he asked hesitantly.

Willow smiled brightly and nodded before very slowly returning a kiss on his cheek. "Was that?" she whispered against his skin.

"Y-Yeah," he squeaked. Then he tentatively kissed her forehead.

She kissed his jaw.

He kissed her temple.

And on and on they went, slowly and comfortable, their food forgotten.

And soon enough, their lips met in a feather-light kiss that had them both blushing and giggling.

And so goes Day 4. This was fun to write, but also a bit challenging. But then, what's life without fun challenge?

*I've written the last three days with mainly Hunter's POV and thought it was time to explore Willow a bit more. This segment was originally going to explore and contrast Hunter talking with Gilbert while Willow talked with Camila, but I realized that it would be much of the same. It also gave me a chance to explore the parallels I've noticed between Willow and Camila.

*The opening narration about the power of touch was inspired and influenced by a passage in The Dresden Files ninth volume, "White Night."

As always, I hope it was a good read - halfway through it! Leave a review if you like! And may your own works be fun to read and to write!