Beautiful Wilting Flowers

Boy:[noun] Definition: [clueless being]

Liana POV:

Dean's warm embrace is all I have to feel to know that he's tough. He doesn't need anyone's condolences or sympathy to make it through. He's tough, and that's how he's gained our respect. He has mine, too.

When he sets me free me from the squeeze gently, he peers down at me with the most truthful eyes, and smiles in a sad kind of manner. His eyes are a little red around the rims, and I can tell he's been worried behind his habitual easygoing foolish approach on life. It makes sense. If I guessed correctly, his dad doesn't have much time left.

"Is your dad... do you ever see him?" I ask.

"Yeah, on the days where Ina visits her dad, and she's out of the house, I go to see my family. As often as once or twice a week. Ina knows about the situation, so she let's me go whenever I want. Truth is,... I don't think my dad's going to make it much longer." Dean shudders. "Maybe the next six years? If were lucky, seven? He's not the same as he used to be. We used to be so close; he was my hero. I lived in a house with three girls; and as much as I love my sisters and mom, I need my dad here. I don't have a reason to be here, otherwise. Besides my  'gift'." He makes finger quotations.

"What kinds of things did you do together?" I ask, trying to enliven his frame of mind to it's usual brightness that we all depend on. Dean's brightness and ability to make me laugh is something I look forward to when I get up in the mornings these days. If Deans depressed, what does that mean for the rest of our sakes?

As I hoped, his face lifts into it's smiley reminiscent features, and he looks as though he's remembering those happy times right now.

"He used to take me to this buffet." He smiles at the memory. "Any other father would take his son out to play catch, or go fishing, or go to an arcade to play some old games, but my dad knew I didn't want to do any of those things. So every two or three weeks, to get away from our girls, he took me to this all you can eat dessert buffet. He knew I would burn off the calories with my baseball anyways-"

"You played baseball?" I blurt, and my cheeks heat when Dean raises an eyebrow and laughs.

"Yeah. Still do, sometimes, but it's mostly just at the batting range." He thinks for a moment. "I should get back into that soon. But anyways, we went to this buffet, and we'd take our food outside, and look at the fish pond they had out back. All sorts of fish. And we sat and talked about life." He's back to sad.

"Dean... I don't even know what to say." I murmur, feeling purposeless.

"Don't say anything." He shakes his head, and smiles, taking my hand and holding up our entwined fingers to my eye level. "Just be here."

He gently drops my hand again, and I smile.

"Dean, I have to tell-" I start, but he discontinues my sentence as he's turned back to the bookshelf.

"Dr Evelynn Black!" He exclaims. "I found her!" He yanks the book out of the shelf.

"Woah!" I say, feeling silly at what I was about to say.

"Sorry, Lia, what were you going to say?" He looks back at me with those angular red eyes, and my heart flutters at the sound of the nickname he's subconsciously given me.

"Uh- nothing. It wasn't important." My face blushes without my permission, and Dean offers a confused smile and gets back to his discovery.

Boys, clueless as ever. *Cough* Dean*cough*.

I roll my eyes, trying to redeem myself from that embarrassing splutter. Focus, Liana. I need to focus.

"What did you find?" I say, and instantly wince in remorse of how stupid that sounded. Were in the biography section of the library. Hello?

"Her biography." Dean says in a 'duh' tone that annoys me, (although I would have said the same), and gives me the same confused smile that I can read through so easily. He's wondering what I was going to say before he interrupted me. "But seriously, cutting you off was my bad, what were you going to say?" 

Dean legit has no filter. He could not hold himself back.

"Ah, um..." I avert my gaze and rack my brain for a good answer that wasn't my original statement, but come up empty handed.

Finally, he sees that I'm having difficulty, and softly says,

"You're wearing the ring." He smiles as he takes my hand, and I realize that I had been subconsciously fiddling with the ring on my middle finger.

"Um, yeah, you did a really great job picking this out. I love it," I finally look up at him. "Thank you.

The golden hour afternoon light leaking in from a nearby window cascades over Dean's tan skinned face, casting a warm aura as his piercing eyes captivate the gaze of my own. He breathes in sharply, and I feel like I'm about to melt under his heated stare, and I hold my breath, waiting to see what happens with our faces inches away, his hand holding mine. He's also holding my stare to his face, and he blinks, lashes fluttering unhurriedly. 

Dean slowly leans down, and I let my arms move up and wrapped around his neck as I steadily raise up on my toes. I let my lips part on their own just as Dean's have, and as we slowly begin to close the distance...

We were so close to having our moment. But a ringing from my back pocket sounds, and I jump, startled. Dean groans quietly, assuming I can't hear him, but I definitely can. And I know he wanted that as much as I do.

"Damn it," I pick up the phone. "Heyden, really, now isn't-"

"I sent you the address. Be here soon. We're having a crisis." I hear panicky talking in the background.

"Huh?" I ask.

"Vek's dad is... well, in the process of dying."