Chris was utilized with Guine's approval.
Word Count: 1372
Activity at Destiny Farms was slow Wednesday morning before noon. With a majority of people either at work or at school, Paris, Chris, and Lilah had the farm almost to themselves. There were a few others scattered about, parents with their younger children, a couple of college students who didn't have class yet, but it remained quiet and peaceful. A soft murmur of conversation and childish laughter were all the noise that carried on the cool breeze.
“Wan' a pumpin,” Lilah announced. She clasped at Paris's hand, straining to pull her along faster, heading for the wide patch of orange pumpkins.
It was a clear day. A few thunder showers earlier in the week had brought the day-time temperatures down to the low sixties. Perfect sweater weather, in Paris's opinion. She and Lilah matched in dark skinny jeans and coordinated shirts, Paris's striped in white, pink and pale blue, Lilah's plain but for a sequined Peter Pan collar. Over top they both wore pink cardigans, Lilah's dotted with large white polka dots, and Paris's fastened with a thin brown belt at the waist.
They each wore cowboy boots. Lilah toddled along in hers, occasionally glancing down at them and grinning at Paris, obviously pleased to be dressed similar to her big sister.
Chris walked close behind them in khakis paired with a button-down shirt and a lightweight jacket, pulling a red wagon to assist in the pumpkin collecting. He wore a pair of dark sunglasses. Paris couldn't determine if they were strictly to shield against the sun or if Chris was hoping no one would recognize him as Destiny City's well-publicized rookie pitcher.
“Wan' dis pumpin,” Lilah said, bending over the very first pumpkin they came across to fold her arms around it. She heaved back like she meant to pick it up, but it was much too big for her small size.
“Too big,” she said, and turned to Chris and Paris expectantly.
“Why don't we look for a smaller one?” Paris suggested.
She retook Lilah's hand and led her over to a group of pumpkins that were all of a more manageable size for a two-year-old.
“See? How about these ones?”
Lilah leaned over and successfully hoisted a squat pumpkin with a curved stem up into her arms.
“I did it!” Lilah cheered excitedly.
“You did! Good job! Now put it in the wagon if you want to keep it.”
She placed the pumpkin into the wagon carefully, then pat it as if she were congratulating it for making it through the endeavor.
They made their way through the pumpkin patch slowly, collecting several pumpkins as they went. Lilah stopped at nearly every pumpkin along the way, leaning close to examine each one. Occasionally she would attempt to pick up another one of the larger ones, announcing “I li' dis one!” as she went.
Paris followed, keeping Lilah close and always in her sight, but allowing her to roam freely so long as she wasn't making a mess or causing any damage to the available produce. Every once in a while Paris paused to take deep breaths of cool air, clasping at Chris's hand and doing her best to keep her mind clear. She chose to focus her thoughts on the pleasant weather and the rare event of their overlapping free time, rather than letting herself be weighed down by memories and bad dreams.
“Are you okay?” Chris asked while Lilah was busy attempting to pick up a pumpkin that was almost as big as she was.
“Yeah,” Paris said, and she meant it. She added, “This is nice,” as she leaned into Chris's arm.
She felt a kiss being pressed against her hair. Like this, outside of the city and away from the war for a little while, it was easy to pretend that everything was normal. They could be a regular couple, exploring the surrounding area and enjoying what adventures their hometown and the nearby mountains had to offer without worrying about magic and monsters and absent Moon queens.
“You push yourself too hard,” Chris said. He sounded sad.
“You think so?” Paris asked, looking up at him curiously. “I don't think I push myself hard enough.”
“You've had an eventful year, Paris,” Chris reminded her.
“So've you.”
“Yeah, but it's different.”
“How so?” Paris wondered.
“Because you're—” Chris cut himself off and shook his head like he didn't know how he meant to finish the comment.
“Because I don't handle things as well as you?” Paris supplied.
She could hardly feel offended when it was entirely true. She'd not been at peace emotionally since her father had died. Hell, before that, even. Her life had been twenty years of confusion, anger, abandonment, and fear. The war had only exacerbated it.
“It's alright, you know,” Paris continued. “You're right. I don't handle things well. I always need too much, and it's hard to accept that I won't ever get whatever that need is, so I... I push and I push hoping it'll make a difference. Sometimes it does, but mostly...”
“Mostly you just end up hurting yourself,” Chris finished the thought for her.
“Yeah,” she agreed.
They walked close to one another as Lilah continued to explore, holding hands for a while longer before Paris released Chris's fingers to hold onto his arm instead. Every once in a while he'd brush his fingers along her side or grab at her waist, and when Lilah took her time with yet another overlarge pumpkin Chris let go of the wagon's handle to touch and hold Paris between both arms.
Paris relaxed more the longer they walked, the more affection Chris showered her with. It wasn't often over the last several months that they'd been able to be like this, what with nightly patrols and Paris being bedridden for a time while Chris frequently traveled out of state for ballgames. With Destiny City's baseball season at the end (she was sad for Chris's sake to say she was relieved there'd been no chance of them making it to the playoffs), Paris was looking forward to having more time together and making these sorts of outings more common occurrences.
She loved being a young twenty-something, married to the love of her life and nurturing the bonds of a once broken family, learning more about herself and figuring out her future in the process.
It wouldn't be like her nightmares. She refused to allow it. Paris hadn't spent all these years struggling to come to terms with things only for it to mean nothing in the end.
A middle-aged woman with a pleasant face and a broad, dimpled smile met them to exchange the pumpkins for cash.
“Would you three like a bit of chocolate fudge? It's on the house,” she asked, beaming down at Lilah.
“I wan' it! I wan' it!” Lilah cheered. She bounced on her feet and looked up at Paris and Chris, her big blue-grey eyes hopeful. “I wan' it,” she said, as if they'd not just witnessed her excitement.
“Thank you,” Paris said and accepted the fudge. She handed Lilah a small piece before Lilah could start climbing up her leg for it.
“You have a beautiful daughter,” the woman said.
“Oh, she's—”
Paris stopped herself before making the correction. She wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe because it seemed strange to admit she had a sister so young? Paris wasn't fond of explaining the circumstances behind that, even if it wasn't quite as strange as she thought. Or maybe she liked that she, Chris, and Lilah looked like a little family, like two young parents out for a day with their toddler.
“Thank you,” she said instead, smiling as she accepted the compliment.
She took Lilah by the hand once the transaction was complete and turned her attention to another section of the farm.
“How about we have some lunch and then go on a hayride?” Paris suggested.
Lilah cheered her approval.
If Chris thought it odd that Paris hadn't bothered to correct the farm's employee, he said nothing about it.
