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She knows she’s staring, but ever since Gus pointed it out last week, Willow hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Hunter.
Or Hunter’s gloves, more specifically.
She had never seen him without them. Even in the human realm, he did not take them off. And it was driving her slightly insane.
She wouldn’t pry into Hunter’s reasoning, but to say she wasn’t curious would be a lie. Gus told her Hunter slept with them on, and when he’d asked if he forgot to take them off, the older boy had gotten quiet.
And now sitting on the couch, flipping through a book, Hunter was still wearing the gloves. Willow couldn’t quite focus on the game that Luz and Vee were playing, which was bound to make her friend suspicious. But she noted that the gloves seemed to irritate Hunter when they made it harder to grasp the page. She wondered why he wouldn’t just take them off.
“Willow, it’s your turn.” Luz prompted, handing over the controller.
“Oh, right!” She tried to ignore her curiosity about the gloves. It really wasn’t her business.
- ••
They were running errands with Mrs. Noceda, or Camila, as she had told the group to call her, when Willow found herself thinking about the gloves again.
Camila had taken everyone to somewhere called the mall, and had insisted they at least buy a few new items while she picked up the necessities.
“Mija, do not lose sight of them. They don’t know Gravesfield like you do.” She had said before pressing something into Luz’s hand.
And now they were searching through a store where Willow had found a large red plush bird.
“Look, it's Flapjack!” She smiled, pressing the plush into Hunter’s hands.
“I found a Clover!” He pulled a square plush bee from behind his back and handed it to her, taking the plush she had found. She felt the fabric of his gloves brush against her hands, and suddenly she was thinking about it again.
Kind of.
Mostly she was thinking about Hunter’s grin as he looked at the bird, despite the fact that he couldn’t feel how soft it was because of the gloves.
Willow wondered if his hands were soft, or if they were rough and covered in calluses from years of training with the Emporer’s Coven. She wondered if they were warm, if holding them would make her whole body feel warm.
She wanted to hold his hands.
She shook her head, feeling her face heat up. It wasn’t worth thinking about. Hunter was her friend, and she respected his privacy, whatever his reason for wearing the gloves was.
- ••
It was raining.
It rained more often than it did in the Boiling Isles, something that took getting used to. More often than not, Willow would forget the rain gear that Camila had given them. So now, she and Hunter were being welcomed inside, completely soaked.
“Ay, pobrecitos! Come on, get changed, you’ll catch a cold in those wet clothes.” Luz’s mother greeted them in the kitchen, handing out warm towels.
“We forgot to grab an umbrella.” Hunter clarified as he handed over the bags of groceries.
“Mijo, you might want to take those gloves off now. Don’t stay in soggy gloves, and I can dry them for you.” Willow watched as he shifted, fiddling with the hem of one of the gloves.
“I… I think I’ll try to dry them myself.” He stopped fiddling and walked off upstairs.
Willow stared after him. She could tell he was avoiding taking them off for sure.
- ••
The incident in the rain had left her more curious than ever about Hunter’s hands. The issue of him just letting the gloves dry in the windowsill, not leaving the spare room he shared with Gus until they were back in place, hadn’t let her ignore it.
“Is Hunter acting different?” She asked Gus as they helped prepare some of the food for dinner.
“Not really, why?”
“I’m a little worried about him. I thought, maybe he didn’t take his gloves off fast enough when they were soaked the other day, and maybe he was getting sick?” She focused on chopping up vegetables, ignoring how Gus was looking at her.
“He’s definitely not sick. I think he’s just sensitive about his gloves.” Her friend wasn’t making eye contact with her now. He knew something she didn’t.
“He would tell us if he was hurt, right?” She muttered to herself.
“Willow, you’re way overthinking this. Why don’t you just ask him about the gloves?”
“I don’t want to pry.” She insisted.
- ••
Willow is sick.
She’s pretty sure it’s because she didn’t listen to Camila and change out of her wet clothes fast enough. In her defense, she didn’t think it would be this bad.
Human colds are the worst. She’s constantly sniffling and coughing, and she feels like she has zero filter. She’s been tucked into Camila’s room, as no one wants to risk her getting the others sick.
It sucks.
She wants to move, to go help out around the house, or at the very least take care of the small garden she had started. She’s been told she needs to rest, to stay buried under this mountain of blankets she isn’t quite sure how she ended up in. Somewhere in the back of her feverish brain, she knows the right thing to do is listen to that advice. She’s going to take care of the garden she started.
“Captain!” Willow starts to fall almost immediately, and is caught by Hunter. She recognizes those stupid gloves.
“Not a fan of my gloves, huh?” He asks. Willow blushes. She definitely has no filter, because she didn’t think she said that out loud.
“Gloves are dumb. Unless you’re a germaphobe. Are you a germaphobe Hunter?” She giggles out, gripping his arms.
“I don’t think I’d be helping you when you were sick if I was afraid of germs.” He helps her back to her bed.
“But then why?” She asks, tapping his nose. Sick Willow is clearly braver than expected. Hunter blinks at her, his face a bright red.
“Why don’t you ask me again when you don’t have a fever?”
“Okay, you look like Flapjack! Flapjack is cute and you’re cute!” She watches as his eyes widen, and he looks so surprised. She places both her hands on either cheek.
“Cute.” She insists.
She’s pretty sure she hears him mumble she’s cute.
- ••
She actually wasn’t thinking about the gloves this time. No, instead she was thinking about Hunter… and the fact that he had fallen asleep on her.
Willow didn’t mind at all, just a little confused at how he had fallen asleep during the movie that Luz had said they needed to watch. While shifting to try and make this arrangement more comfortable, she noticed one of his gloves was slipping off a little.
She could see the edge of his Emperor's Coven sigil, and although she was curious about what else was under the gloves, she really didn’t want to cross his boundaries like that.
So Willow lightly tugged the glove more securely onto his hand, and turned her attention back to the movie.
Or tried to.
She doesn’t know when she fell asleep. To be fair, it was a little late, and Hunter had fallen asleep on her first.
Still, she was a little surprised to wake up tucked against his chest, her hands gripping his gloved ones. The fabric was softer than she expected, although it made sense, considering how often Hunter wore the gloves. Of course they were more worn down and soft.
What surprises her more is the fact that Hunter doesn’t seem to mind how tightly she’s gripping his hands, or the fact that she’s holding his hands at all.
“Captain?” He asked Willow quietly. It’s then that she notices that Amity and Luz are fast asleep, curling up with each other on the floor, and Gus looks like he’s so enthralled with the movie that he wouldn’t see anything else.
“Sorry,” she whispers, dropping his hands. She moves to give him more space, but is surprised when Hunter softly protests.
“If you’re comfortable, you don’t have to move. I don’t mind.” He’s smiling gently at her. Willow nods, and shifts again, letting Hunter hold her. He’s like her own personal furnace, she notes. She doesn’t even feel the need to grab a blanket, despite the colder weather.
Willow sleepily entwines her fingers with Hunter’s. She can’t feel the warmth as well there because of his gloves. She can’t say she’s a fan of that.
“Hunter?” She mumbles.
“Mm?”
“So warm.” She thinks she dreams the red blush across his face.
- ••
Willow is actively trying to avoid thinking about Hunter’s stupid gloves now. Whatever mystery they hold is not worth wrecking what’s happening now.
Which is Hunter initiating touches more often. Willow’s always been fond of touch, but this somehow feels different. Walking around the town of Gravesfield, their hands entwined, she’s never appreciated physical contact more. She honestly can say that the flowers the pop up on her head when he hugs her are worth it.
So no, she doesn’t plan on testing this new boundary. Maybe she wishes that she could actually hold his hand without the wall of fabric between them, but she won’t push.
And just when she’s managed to push all thoughts of the gloves out of her head, Hunter brings it up on his own.
“I know you’re curious.” He says, unprompted. They’re in the garden, and he’s helping her weed.
“About?” She’s not going to say it, she’s not going to push whatever little bond they’ve formed. Willow likes him, and she is not going to risk losing him. Out of sight, out of mind.
“My gloves. I’ve seen you look at them sometimes.” Hunter isn’t making eye contact with her. He’s entirely focused on the plants, and she can’t help but think that's deliberate.
“You don’t have to tell me.” She says. Willow thinks that's the best response, she won't push.
“I want to, I just-”
“There's no need.” She smiles. Willow will not think about Hunter’s gloves anymore.
- ••
She thinks they get closer after that. Given the fact that Luz asks her if she “needs to give Hunter the shovel talk” she knows the other think so too. Willow is quick to tell her friends that nothing has happened, but that's not strictly true.
Given the amount of times she has actively stopped looking at the gloves, she knows something is different.
Out of sight, out of mind, right?
Except it’s hard to keep the gloves out of sight when Hunter holding her during movie night becomes a regular occurance. When he's lightly tracing the lines on her hands and she can feel the fabric.
They’re stuck in this weird in between place of something and nothing, but Willow won’t risk leaving this halfway point.
She knows Hunter has his own experiences, and for all she knows, he thinks this is friend behavior. Much like what’s beneath the gloves, that's a mystery she won’t be pushing.
That doesn’t stop her heart from speeding up when she hugs him.
- ••
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Willow thinks this is the stupidest way this could have happened.
She was just grabbing her bandana from the spare room. Although she didn’t officially sleep there, Willow ended up sharing a bed with the boys more often than not, so most of her stuff was in there.
So she didn't even think before she walked in. And then she noticed Hunter’s gloves, the ones she had never seen him without, were placed on the bed.
Hunter wasn’t wearing his gloves.
Then Willow did the only thing she could think of, which was covering her eyes and trying to find the bandana without looking.
“Captain?” She heard Hunter ask.
“I’m not looking.” She announced. It was then she heard a stifled laugh.
“I appreciate it, but I don't mind.” He responded.
“But you-”
“I trust you.” She felt him walk closer, and Willow lowered her hand.
Hunter stood in front of her, his hands uncovered and held out to her. They were pale, and there were scars crisscrossing all over them. Willow gently reached out, and entwined her fingers with his.
His hand was soft, but callused. She could feel the warmth radiating off of him, and it was comforting.
“I- being the Golden Guard wasn’t always easy, and I didn’t like being reminded of my failures.” Hunter spoke fairly quietly. Willow pulled him closer to her.
“Thank you for trusting me with this.” She smiles and he grins back.
“Willow?” He asks. She startles a bit. It's not as rare for him to use her name anymore, but she still is surprised.
“Can I kiss you?” Is not the next sentence she’s expecting out of him, and yet it is. Willow nods, and suddenly he’s cupping her face and pressing his lips against hers.
It’s not a long kiss, and it’s a little clumsy, but Hunter’s lips are soft, and his hands are warm as he lightly cups her cheek. When the kiss stops, she catches his hand and lightly presses her lips against one of the bigger scars.
“If I knew my gloves were stopping this, I would have told you sooner.”
She holds his bare hands.