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Wade waited anxiously for Ember to return from her phone call. She had left the table about ten minutes ago, and he was starting to fidget. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he fiddled with his fork. The restaurant was mildly busy at the time. He hoped she wasn't stalling because she wasn't happy with the date he'd planned.
The tall, slender water person came to the side of the table with a rolling tray that had various pitchers on it. "Is everything tasting all right for you sir," the waitress asked as she refilled his glass with sparkling water.
"Oh, yes, thank you," he answered, shifting uncomfortably as he continued staring at the door across the restaurant, waiting for Ember to come back through it.
"And your friend?" the waitress asked as she put on a heat resistant glove to grab the stone pitcher containing lava juice to fill Ember's cup.
"Hm?" Wade inquired, momentarily confused. Then he realized who she was talking about. "Oh, she's my girlfriend, actually. She's just off taking a phone call."
"Oh," the waitress said with a nervous laugh. "My apologies."
Wade was too busy staring at the door to notice the waitress hurry off with a judgemental stare before checking on the next table.
Finally, after what seemed like ages, Ember slowly came back through the door. Wade smiled upon seeing her, but quickly frowned as he realized how slowly she was moving. Her flame was flickering in and out like it does when she's upset.
"You don't like the date, do you?" Wade asked as she sat.
Ember shook her head as she slumped in her seat. "No, Wade. The date was wonderful. I just . . . got some pretty upsetting news."
Wade leaned forward on the table. "What's wrong, my light?" he asked, pushing away his appetizer plate of half-eaten ice chips.
Ember wouldn't meet his eye. "I'm sorry, Wade, but I don't think I can talk about this here. I know you went through so much trouble planning this, but –"
"Say no more," Wade interrupted, getting to his feet. "I'll go pay the check. Meet me outside at your firecycle."
Ember nodded as Wade hurried to the hostess stand without letting her respond. After he assured the hostess he would have to cut dinner short and pay the check, he rushed outside to where Ember was waiting for him. She sat on her firecycle with her head buried in her hands on the handlebars.
"My light?" Wade said as he approached. He heard soft sobbing coming from her throat. He carefully put his arm around her, noticing she had dimmed so much that there wasn't as much resulting steam as usual. Something was really wrong. He just held her there while she sobbed, waiting for her to have enough strength to talk to him. He felt himself wanting to cry at the sight of her being so upset, but held it back so his waterworks wouldn't hurt her, wanting to be able to hold her.
After what felt like an eternity, Ember pulled her head up. The handlebars to her firecycle were slightly warped from the heat.
"Ember," Wade said softly. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"
Ember sniffed and wiped a lava tear from her eye. "It's my dad," she said softly. "His light is dying."
More tears pooled in Wade's eyes. "Oh, vapor," he cursed. "That's awful. I'm so sorry, my light."
Ember turned to him. "I'm sorry I ruined our date," she said between sniffs.
Wade shook his head. "You didn't ruin anything. No one did. This isn't anyone's fault."
Ember studied him. "How are you always so understanding?" she asked.
Wade smiled softly, then wrapped his arm around her again and held her close. "You should go to him. I'll take you to the train station."
Ember rested her head on his chest. "Actually, he wants you to come with me."
Wade felt taken aback. "His dying wish is to see me too?"
Ember nodded into his chest. "He didn't say why. He just wants us to come before he snuffs out."
Wade felt touched and forced the tears in his eyes to go down his cheeks instead of creating a waterfall. "Then we should get going. Let's go home and pack a bag."
Wade drove the firecycle while Ember sat behind him, resting against his back. Steam flowed behind them as they went. As they pulled into the driveway of their concrete house in the cul de sac, their earth neighbors watched them from their sidewalk.
"It's about time she dimmed down!" one of them screamed out, laughing with his husband.
"Yeah, now keep it that way!" the husband screamed in response.
Wade felt himself boiling with rage. "Hey! My girlfriend doesn't dim herself for anybody! Go back to your fungal rot and go dormant for a change!"
The neighbors' jaws dropped and they started whispering to each other angrily.
"Come on," Wade said, pulling Ember into his arms and directing her into their home. He noticed she wasn't even burning any brighter. Normally a comment like that would have enraged her, but she was too hurt to even let her temper rage.
After leading her to her bedroom and kissing her on the head, he went to his room and quickly threw together a few things in a suitcase. When he returned to Ember's bedroom, she was curled up in her bed. She wasn't sobbing, but she was abnormally quiet. He set his suitcase down and set to work packing a bag for her. When he finished, he sat down next to her in her bed.
"Whenever you're ready, my light," he said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder.
Ember closed her eyes. "Can you just . . . hold me for a while?"
Wade studied her for a moment. They'd, of course, hadn't shied away from touch since they discovered they could without hurting one another. But she'd never asked to be held. He slowly moved onto her bed behind her and wrapped his arm around her, holding her close as he gently kissed the back of her shoulder.
Steam gently wafted up toward the ceiling and formed a layer of condensation, which eventually dripped back down as it cooled to reunite with Wade's body. It was a while before Ember finally spoke again.
"Thank you for being here, Wade," she said, resting her arm over the one he had on her waist.
Wade squeezed her gently. "I always will be, my light."
— § —
The train came to a halt by Element City, sending a final waterfall over the side of the railing. Ember normally would be happy to be visiting home, but today she simply stared out of the window, unable to get her body to move.
"Ember?"
Wade's voice woke her from her trance and she looked at him seated next to her, staring at her with sad, tear-filled eyes.
"I'm sorry," Ember said, looking down.
Wade wrapped an arm around her. "I wish you'd stop apologizing," he said gently, pushing a loose flame from her face.
Ember looked at him, but didn't respond. The two stood and Wade grabbed their bags. He let Ember walk ahead of him.
It was a long walk to the Fireplace, seemingly longer since the two felt like their limbs were moving through jelly. Wade used an umbrella to protect her whenever they passed under a waterfall. They barely processed the fact that they'd arrived when they did. For a while, they stood in front of the door of the Fireplace.
Finally, Wade stepped forward and opened the door, stepping aside and holding it open for Ember. Ember took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold.
"Ember!" Flarry said from behind the counter, abandoning his customer. Flarrietta, who was sweeping between the aisles, stopped and looked up. "I'm so happy to see you, though I'm sorry for the circumstances."
Flarry and Ember shared a hug, Flarietta joining the hug a moment later.
"It's good to see you too," Ember responded. "Thank you for keeping my dad's dream alive, and for letting them keep their space upstairs."
Flarry and Flarrietta nodded as they stepped back.
"Of course," Flarrietta responded. "We've known your parents for many years. Your dad built this place with his bare hands. It wouldn't have been right to send him away from that, especially at his age."
Ember nodded slowly. "So he's upstairs now?" she asked slowly, looking up at the ceiling.
As if on cue, a loud coughing noise came bellowing down from the staircase and muffled through the ceiling.
"It gets worse every day," Flarry said, clasping his hands together.
"I don't . . . think it will be long," Flarrietta added.
Wade, understandably forgotten in the background, felt tears welling up in his eyes again and trailing down his face. Ember turned to him.
"Come on, Wade," she said softly.
Ember walked forward and Flarry and Flarrietta stepped farther aside. Despite the proof that fire and water could coexist, many still didn't trust being too close to a water person. Wade tried to stay understanding, however.
Slowly, they made their way up the stairs and down the hallway to her father's bedroom. More coughing was muffled through the door, and smoke billowed through the cracks between the door and the doorframe. With a deep breath, Ember reached up and knocked.
A few moments later, the door opened to reveal Cinder, Ember's mother. With a choked sob, she lunged forward and wrapped her arms around her.
"Ember! My daughter!" she cried.
Wade choked softly as he watched, fighting to not ruin the moment with his waterworks. They broke away after a few seconds and Cinder led Ember into the room by the hand. Wade followed and set their bags down outside the door before entering, shutting the door behind him. He tried to ignore the amount of smoke floating about the room. The window across the room was open with an electric fan slowly blowing the smoke outside.
"Ashfa," Ember sighed as she came to his side. He was laying in bed with a fire proof blanket over him. He was much dimmer than he was the last time they saw him.
"My Ember," Bernie said softly before coughing a few more times. "I'm so glad you came."
"Of course, Ashfa," Ember said, taking his hand. "We came as soon as we heard."
Bernie smiled and looked up past her at Wade, who stood a respectful few feet behind. "Wade," he said softly. "Come closer, child."
Wade hesitated. "Are you sure, sir? I don't . . . I don't wanna . . ."
"It's okay," Bernie insisted. "I insist."
Ember looked warily between Wade and Bernie as Wade stepped closer, stopping just next to the bed.
Bernie smiled as he looked between them. "I am so happy that you make my daughter happy," Bernie said softly.
Wade tried to smile back but found himself unable as Bernie went into another coughing fit. When he was finished, he said, "I'm very lucky to make her happy, sir."
Bernie nodded slowly. "Ember, let Wade sit with me for a moment."
Ember sat straight for a moment, her jaw slacking. "But dad, are you sure? He could –"
"Ê shútsh, daughter," Bernie interrupted. "Please."
Ember hesitantly stood and stepped back to where her mother was standing at the foot of the bed, watching Wade carefully. Wade eyed the spot where he'd been asked to sit.
"It's okay, child," Bernie assured him. "The blanket will prevent your water from seeping through."
Wade nodded slowly, then sat. He didn't know what to say, so he remained silent.
"Wade," Bernie began, "when you came into my life, I was . . . very ignorant. My prejudice against people like you blinded me from seeing you for the man you are."
He paused to cough a few more times, and Wade ignored the smoke billowing up into his face.
"It was understandable, sir," Wade responded. "A lot of water people are real jerks to the Firish people."
"Yes, but you have opened my eyes to what the world could be," Bernie continued. "There is a lot of animosity between our worlds. But it doesn't always have to be that way."
"I'm sorry, sir," Wade responded, "I'm not sure what you're getting at."
Bernie sighed. "You have proven that fire and water can coexist peacefully. I am happy that I could see the beginning of a new era before I snuff out." Tears streamed down Wade's face and Bernie eyed him with a side smile. "I have never known anyone so comfortable showing their emotions. The Firish don't typically cry very much."
Wade nodded. "I know you must think it's silly," he said with a strained sob. "My family has just always been very comfortable with vulnerability."
Bernie chuckled. "I may find your ways strange or different, but never silly. Not anymore."
Wade smiled between his sobs. "Thank you, sir."
Bernie shook his head. "I should have asked this of you long ago. Call me Ashfa."
Wade's jaw slacked. It'd been a long time since he'd had someone he could call father. "Could you excuse me for a second?" he asked before getting up and rushing from the room.
Through the walls, muffled sobs could be heard for a few minutes from the other room. The Lumen family shifted and waited in an awkward silence before Wade returned, tears still streaming down his face.
"Apologies," Wade said as he sat down again. "I've been holding that in for a while."
Bernie smiled softly. "Of course, son."
Wade held back further sobs after being called son.
"Before I snuff out, I have one more wish," he said before erupting into more coughs.
Wade's brow rippled in confusion. "Of course. But what could I possibly do for you?"
Bernie held out his hand, weak and trembling. "Take my hand, son."
Wade stood suddenly, stepping back. "Wait, I don't think I can –"
"Ashfa," Ember interrupted, "what if he makes you worse? I've never seen you this dim."
Bernie's hand dropped to the blanket. "My sweet daughter. You have had the privilege of experiencing how it feels to hold the hand of a man with the power to hurt you, yet he's done nothing but make you stronger. Even if this is the last thing I do, I want to know how it feels to be in such harmony."
Wade looked uncomfortably between Ember and Bernie. Cinder stood to the side with her hand nervously over her mouth.
"I'll only do it with Ember's permission," Wade said, looking at Ember.
Ember looked from him to her father, unspeaking.
"Please, Ember," Bernie said. "Grant your father his dying wish."
Bernie began coughing again and Ember swallowed hard, but finally looked over at Wade and nodded. "Okay, but please be careful."
Wade nodded and stepped back toward Bernie, who held out his hand again. Wade took a deep breath and slowly reached out, stopping just as his hand hovered over Bernie's. He met Bernie's eye again and he nodded. Wade held his breath as he lowered his hand down onto Bernie's, a small sizzle resounding as the hands touched. Wade was used to the way it felt to touch fire because of his relationship with Ember, but Bernie let out a small gasp and watched their hands with what seemed like . . . curiosity.
Steam slowly curled up from the pair's hands. Bernie watched their hands carefully, cocking his head slightly to the side. The cool feeling of the water was jarring at first to someone of his temperature, but as he let it simmer, he realized it was almost . . . soothing. He had always been taught that it was insulting to be "cooled down" as a Firish person. But he realized that maybe cooling down wasn't so bad sometimes.
Finally, he looked up at Wade, carefully gripping his hand a bit tighter. "Thank you, son."
Wade, who had started crying again watching him be mesmerized by his touch, nodded. "You're welcome, Ashfa."
A small silence passed between them as tears continued to slide down Wade's face in a continuous stream.
"Does this mean I can have kolnut coffee now?" Wade asked.
Bernie eyed him amusingly. "Don't push your luck."