Winged

Chapter 4.

Evan was a messy person. And just like him was his house too.

Not in a bad way or anything. It was basically aesthetically messy. It was tidy but in a messy way, if that makes any sense. He could find anything there, he knew exactly where everything was. Talent, Timothee thought. Oh, Timothee. He was on the verge of breaking down only by seeing how messy Evan's place was.

Timothee was the exact opposite of Evan. He had his things always tidy and in place. In a way that was kind of pissing even himself off, but he couldn't help it. He needed to know where everything was at the moment he needed it. He had to know where his things were, so he had this unique system of organization he had made up himself. And the thought of his place being messy was devastating. For what Evan thought, of course, as long as you could get through the stuff and go where you wanted to it was fine.

Despite Evan's messiness, Timothee had to admit that his house was pretty. Both on exterior and interior. Well, as the hours passed in Bivium Timothee had concluded that it was not that strange after all. It was just the utopic version of a regular community. Though it was a bit more beautiful and welcoming, that Timothee had to admit.

Evan's house was located a kilometer or two away from a huge, rounded square built by stones of all sizes and flowers planted in every possible place upon it. Beautiful flowers. Well, Timothee didn't exactly know why everyone there loved flowers that much. On their way back from 'Lacus Olorum' Timothee had watched many Bivium citizens with flowers on their hands, knelt over them with scissors on their hands, carefully cutting them, watering them. In every garden, there were flowers. Different kinds but still as beautiful as ever. But what had surprised Timothee the most, was not the fact that flowers seemed to have a unique place there rather than the fact that they were so carefully taken care of that somebody could think they were fake. Which Timothee did but decided to keep it to himself. He would ask some other time since he would be staying there for long.

Evan's garden, though, was what had made Timothee really gasp. There weren't many kinds of flowers. Rather than only one. Roses. In every corner he would turn his eyes he could see roses. Red, white, pink, orange, lavender. All kinds of colors. It was amazing. Like a wonder of nature. Timothee noticed that the color of roses which was dominant was a deep, crimson one. Breathtakingly beautiful.

"Th-That's your house?" Timothee questioned, still unable to tear his eyes away from the beauty that was right in front of him. Evan gave him a smirk before pushing open the small, white fence door, revealing a stoned, narrow path, which seemed to be dividing this magnificent garden in two. Timothee quickly gathered himself up before following after Evan, always looking around, admiring, trying to spot something he couldn't define into this garden. "You've got a freaking fountain?"

"Isn't it just gorgeous? The sculpture up there; Eros. The God of Love. Amazing isn't it?" Evan explained, coming to stop in front of a marble fountain that seemed like a hundred years old, if not more. On top of it, there was the figure of a young, handsome man, staring blankly at the far distance. On his back, there were two great wings. Not like the ones this awful man, Hugo, had. Eros's wings were wide and rich in feathers. On his toned hands, he was holding an archer, aiming somewhere afar from the two boys. He indeed was amazing, the time perfectly captured by the artist's loving hand.

"Yea... Amazing." Timothee breathed out, still staring at the sculpture. Something held him there, making him unable to take his eyes off of the Greek God.

"Well, Eros has been here for what I reckon many years, but we should get going, got plenty to show you I have." Evan spoke, a friendly smile on his features as he shrugged an arm around Timothee's narrow shoulders despite the fact that he was shorter. Timothee tensed up a bit, physical touch not being exactly his element, but decided to shrug it off because it seemed to him that, in contrast to him, physical touch was exactly Evan's element.