Author’s Note: This one answered the prompt: Enya/Cress, “If you fit into my pants, I’ll kill myself.”
And it was supposed to be a fluffy bit, but because I set it before Enya rejoins the others, it’s bittersweet.
“Damn it. It happened again.”
“What?” Enya asked, rubbing at her forehead and trying to remember when it had rained so much. She didn’t think they’d predicted a storm this weekend. It should have been nice today. Her coworkers had a picnic planned. That was the plan, at least.
“Enya. I—I hadn’t realized this was where you lived.”
Right. There. That was her brain catching up to itself. She hadn’t realized that she’d heard his voice. He wasn’t supposed to be here, so her brain had started acting like it was a dream, but she didn’t think it was. “Actually, this is where I work. I live over—”
“Don’t tell me,” Cress said, cutting her off, pulling at his shirt, and she looked around, trying to decide if anyone else had seen them—him. Just him. She hadn’t done anything, had she? “And, no, this wasn’t you.”
“Are the others here?”
“Somewhere. We got separated.” Cress closed his eyes. “Occie’s over there. Other side of the lake. Probably worried. Did… Did you want to see them?”
Enya swallowed, tempted, but she shook her head. Even if she did, she doubted they wanted to see her. “No. I don’t. I’m not entirely sure why I’m seeing you.”
“Rogue air elemental. Real pain in the ass. Worse than Sherwin.”
“I didn’t think that was possible.”
He gave her a look, and she winced. They did know it was. A rogue air had killed Moira and Sherwin’s parents. Enya hadn’t forgotten, not exactly. She just put that in her ignore file and moved on, the way she did with everything.
“I hate when I don’t buy pre-shrunk clothes,” he muttered, and she looked back at him with a frown. His shirt clung to him in a way that had her mind going places she’d refused to let it when they were kids, and she forced herself to stop now.
“I thought everything was pre-shrunk these days.”
“No.” He tried to walk and cursed, pulling at his jeans. “I don’t suppose you have a spare pair of pants I can borrow?”
“If you fit into my pants, I will kill myself.”
He smiled at her. Then the smile faded. “I should go. Occie’s going to be worried, and Moira will be pissed—and worried—so I…”
“Yeah, go.”
“They’re all okay,” he said, and she couldn’t manage a response. He’d known what she wanted to ask but didn’t dare. “Really. Terra made a garden that won a contest—not that she was around to get the prize. Stone proposed to Occie again last week. Sherwin’s an idiot, as usual. Moira did this impressive wind chime concert the other night. She’s good at that.”
Enya nodded. She wished she’d been there to hear it. “What… What about you?”
He shrugged. “Oh, you know me. I’m water. I’m always fine.”
“Except that your clothes don’t fit.”
He laughed. “Yeah, except for that.”
She stood there, feeling awkward, wrapping her arms around herself. She could hear her coworkers somewhere behind her, laughing and joking as they fixed their picnic, and she knew she had to go back to them, but she wanted to ask him to take her with him.
She let out a breath. “It was good seeing you again.”
“You, too.”