Winged

Chapter 18

"...And this. Those are my favorites out of all, Timmy. They are so beautiful and classic. I love them. You know. Somewhere in this house, I had a book named 'The Language of Flowers'. But one day I lent it to Lily and I never took it back, she always loses things, that one is. Probably forgot it in one of her walks in the woods. Anyways. I loved this book. You would have loved it too, Timmy. In fact, I'll see to it that I'll find a copy or something so you can read it." Evan was talking. In fact, Evan was always talking. Timothee cannot really name a time when Evan was not talking – apart from those horrid days with the picture. Now, the pair of them was seated out in the front garden, among Evan's countless flowers. Oh, this boy loved flowers. And he knew a tone of information about them, too. Evan was doing his usual gardening, of course introducing each and every one of his flowers to Timothee, who on the other hand was not that cheerful today, as he sat on a bench, a book on his hands, carefully reading the lines as he tried to focus with Evan's voice, and an awful headache, making that impossible.

"Hm..." Timothee nodded and felt a little bad that he was not paying attention to Evan because he seemed very enthusiastic about the flowers. But this headache. It had been going on for two days now and each day it seemed like it was getting more intense. Plus. He was kind of mad at Evan too, as he remembered his conversation with Luke the other day. But he still had to come up with an elaborate plan on how to make Evan tell him the truth without making him run away.

"But I won't give you this. I'll give you... That!" Evan yelped up from the ground and extended a beautiful flower towards Timothee. Timothee, who for the first time since they'd gotten out turned his eyes away from that book, slightly chuckled at that as he was reminded of the first time ever he came to this house, how Evan had given him another flower in the exact same way.

"Well, thank you." Timothee replied with a tired smile, as Evan grinned down at him his face nearly covered by a ridiculous hat he was wearing.

"It's a thornless red rose. It's beautiful, isn't it?" Evan informed him as he knelt to the ground again, going on with his gardening. Timothee stared at the flower in his hands, turning it on his palm, as though he was examining it. Timothee was getting more pissed off by the second he had sat on that bench, and Evan had started talking as though nothing was going on, and with this headache putting pressure on his entire body he felt like he could explode at the moment. "And those strawberries! They're delicious, Timmy! What did you do and they're so tasty?'

"I poisoned them." Timothee deadass looked over his book and into Evan's eyes, who slowly proceeded to spit out the strawberry, with a confused gaze. A pain was shot right through Timothee's forehead at the moment making him wince in pain. Okay, that was it. The weather was too shiny, the situation not it, and Evan a pretentious little git. And Timothee could have literally pushed him into the rose bushes at the moment. "Um... Actually, I'm going to lay down a bit."

"You're okay? You seem pale." Evan said concerned as he stood up from the ground along with Timothee, who stood up from the bench, slightly rubbing his head.

"Yea, yea. I'm fine, don't worry." Timothee half replied and took a step forward, losing his balance as he did so, Evan managing to catch him just before he fell facedown to the ground.

"Jeez, you don't look fine. You sure you don't feel sick, Timmy?" Evan softly asked him, his hand still gripping on Timothee's arm, too afraid he would fall to let him go. Timothee just shut his eyes at that, as though he was annoyed.

"Yes, I told you I'm fine. And you don't have to bother." Timothee replied and motioned to go inside but Evan was still holding him.

"Is something the matter, Timmy? You don't look... Dunno, you seem pissed off." Evan asked, his eyebrows furrowed with confusion and concern for his friend.