Atypical Romance

Hettie walked through a field of short grass. Enough trees were around that the sun was just warm, not uncomfortable beating heat. She could hear a river at the bottom of the hill. Her dress blew in the wind, but her leggings and boots kept thorny plants and bugs away.

In one hand was a small basket of seeds. A random mix of mostly wild flowers, if the leader of this volunteer group was right. Some of them would be considered weeds to most people. She’d reach in with her other hand sometimes, and sprinkle seeds across the hill.

She knew this was only doing something slight. Some of the seeds might not grow. And they’d only been given seeds that had a chance without being buried. No digging and planting today. But this was nice. It was more fun than she’d thought it would be.

Hettie turned to smile at her boyfriend, Wyatt. This had been his idea. Surely he was enjoying it, and would want to know she was also enjoying it. But she didn’t see him. Her smile dipped. There were other people around, spreading seeds of their own, just not him.

After looking for a little longer, she saw him at the bottom of the hill, near the river. He had one of his gloves off, and was running his hand along the invasive mint down there. As soon as any part of his hand so much as lightly brushed against part of it, the whole plant would wither, turning brown and crumbling down.

Part of this project was removing the invasive plants. That wasn’t new. It was what everyone had started the day with, and why the part of the field she was working in was clear of mint. And he did have a faint smile on his face. But most people had moved on, to planting something new. . .

She was shaken from her musings when the leader of their group announced they were taking a lunch break.

Wyatt went to a sheet, spread out on a flatter area. He drank some water, then lay down, back against the sheet.

Hettie lay down near him, though far enough away that she wasn’t entirely on the sheet herself. She clasped her hands to her chest. They looked at the sky together. Clouds passed by and the wind made the leaves rustle.

Truthfully, she would’ve liked to sit closer, or at least spread her hands out instead of keeping them to herself like this. She knew why he was worried, but he had gloves. So did she. They’d held hands with those on before. She could be a little closer, literally, to her partner. But she knew how stressed and angry he could get. She didn’t want to ruin the afternoon by stressing him out.

“Why aren’t they letting you throw seeds?” she asked him, after a little.

“You know why.”

Wyatt had an . . . unfortunate superpower. Anything that touched his skin died. It was sort of like those toxic frogs, but worse. Anything, no matter the size and age, got instant death. If he’d tripped today, and put his ungloved hand on a tree to steady himself, that would’ve killed the whole tree. It was good for getting rid of invasive plants, like he was doing today. He could target them and nothing else with minimal effort. It wasn’t good for much else. But it hardly seemed fair. He was extremely careful. He was the one who’d wanted to come here today, who really cared about plants.

Hettie frowned. “You’re wearing gloves. Two layers of them.” He had a latex pair underneath the fabric gloves, in case those ripped. “And even if you did ruin a few seeds somehow, we have a lot. This isn't the rare and endangered seed collection.”

She had no idea if such a collection actually existed.

“They’re not my seeds. I don’t make that call.”

“Well then. I’ll just have to talk to the one who does.”

“Hettie?”

Hettie got up, and headed for the leader.

“Hettie, wait,” Wyatt called after her.

But if he wasn’t trying to stop her, wasn’t even getting to his feet, she didn’t think he was very committed.

She went up to the leader with a smile, and told him that her boyfriend didn’t have any seeds, and surely he’d just forgotten to give Wyatt some, so if they could have another basket please. She did her best to make him uncomfortable, her anger somehow fueling her innocent tone and smile.

Wyatt’s wobbly smile, his almost surprised expression as he held a seed between two gloved fingers, was well worth it.

***

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with?”

“You know I don’t,” Wyatt told her. He thumped his thumb against the steering wheel. For once, he wasn’t wearing his gloves or a hat. (She’d been in the backseat when she was in the car.) “I’m not going someplace that crowded.”

“It’s a mall, not a rave.”

“If it were an evening or a Tuesday during work hours, maybe I’d go in. But not today.”

Hettie sighed and smiled. “I know. I was just teasing.”

Hettie was going to the mall to meet a friend. They’d get lunch and go shopping together, maybe see a movie if the mall’s theater was playing anything good. She’d invited Wyatt, but she wasn’t surprised when he turned her down, only offering to drive her there.

***

Hettie and Wyatt clasped gloved hands, and spun around the room, carefully moving their feet in the correct steps of the dance. Wyatt lifted a hand up, and she twirled underneath it, dressing billowing out.

She had designed both their outfits, and she was rather pleased with the results. Her red and white dress, with the leggings and gloves, could use a few tweaks to be wedding appropriate. But it could be a good base for a bride’s dress. Hopefully her own dress. Wyatt hadn’t brought up marriage, but she would soon. They’d been dating long enough.

He’d wanted shades of gray for his own suit, but she’d added a few red buttons to create a pop of color, and so they’d match.

She went back to facing him, hands clasped, shifting slightly to the right with the music. She had a feeling there was a starstruck expression on her face as she looked into his eyes. He smiled down at her, gaze warm, and she felt the fingers entwined in hers squeeze just a little harder.

The song was over far too soon in her opinion. Wyatt let go of her hands. But he put a hand on her shoulder, and they walked to the refreshment table.

Hettie waved for Wyatt to come closer. He looked bemused, and bowed his head. She kissed him on the top of his hat, like how he’d kissed her glove when they first arrived. It worked better with some of his other hats, like the beanie or baseball cap, that he could better feel through. But the sentiment was there.

They pulled apart again. She got the feeling other people here were laughing at them, but they were still smiling at each other.

Wyatt liked her. Obviously. He forgave some of her quirkier aspects.

Her friends and family? Well, after she’d fallen for literal super villains, or at least their henchmen, her parents considered the death touch guy to be an improvement.

And she liked him. She cared about him so much. And not just because some shallow part of her crushed on people with angst. If that was the only appeal, the relationship, with some of its atypical aspects, wouldn’t have survived this long. She just hoped he knew that. She smiled at him, and hoped to send her emotions about him through it, like telepathy.

***

“Wyatt!”

Hettie stood, wide-eyed, shuffling in place and gripping the first aid kit in both hands. Wyatt’s head was bleeding, the liquid welling from a long cut on his forehead, sticky hair clinging to his head. It-it wasn’t too bad. It seemed like a lot of blood, but she knew head wounds always seemed like a lot of blood. He was still conscious. But Hettie wanted to help. She just wasn’t too sure how.

An older woman, gray streaks in her brown hair and wrinkles forming around her eyes, stood between Hettie and Wyatt. She held some bandages and disinfectant she’d taken from the first aid kit, before she’d handed the box off to Hettie.

Wyatt’s eyes widened in alarm as she came closer, and he scooted back slightly, shaking his head. Though he didn’t speak any words, just made some distressed noises. He must be out of it.

“Wyatt. Wyatt, hey. It’s me.” The woman dropped to her knees so the two would be making eye contact. “You remember me, yes? My superpower is canceling other powers. So long as I’m holding my breath, you won’t hurt anyone. Understand?”

He nodded along as she spoke. The panic in his expression faded, replaced by some sort of recognition. They must’ve met before today.

He didn’t struggle again as the woman used ungloved hands to put the disinfectant on his forehead and started bandaging him up. In fact, his eyes watered slightly at the touch.

When she was done, she stepped to the side, and Hettie rushed forward. “Wyatt! Are you okay?!”

Wyatt glanced at the older woman. She nodded. She still wasn’t breathing. Hettie could see it in the stiff way she held herself, in the lack of rise and fall from her chest, and the lack of sound from her nose and mouth.

Before Hettie could figure out what was going on, Wyatt put a gloved hand on the back of Hettie’s head, drew her closer, and kissed her.

It wasn’t a very good kiss. This was someone who hadn’t made physical contact with anyone since he was about five, and it showed. He just sort of bumped their lips together, and then did the same motions he'd done when he kissed her gloves, or the top of her hat. But this time she felt it, not through layers of fabric but the warmth of his lips directly on hers. After over a year of not experiencing that, it was a shock. And it was sincere. Much like when she tried to put her emotions into her gaze, she got the feeling he was trying to put his emotions into the touch. It meant more than any kiss she’d had before.

Then Wyatt pulled away. “I’m sorry. I thought-since we normally can’t-you might want to-ugh. Maybe I have brain damage.”

Right. He could’ve interpreted her non-reaction as negative.

He reached up to rub his head, which would’ve been a bad idea. Hettie caught his wrist and glanced at the older woman. She drew in another breath, held it, and made a gesture for Hettie to get on with it.

Hettie smiled. They did not have a normal relationship. Nor would they ever. Directly touching was out of the question. They’d been together for over a year, and this was the first time they’d kissed, something most people considered integral to a romantic relationship. They might not get another opportunity after this. It wasn’t that she didn’t mind at all. It was just, all relationships required some sacrifice, and this was one she was willing to make. But she would take the chance while they had it. She leaned in, and this time she kissed him.