💐The power of flowers 💐 KimChay Au ✨️

Nickname

(Hi 💗 wishing you an amazing day/night ✨️)

"Wa-wait." Porchay said, moving his head a little. It made Kim feel bad about having touched his skin without asking beforehand. His hands should look dirty to him, were the first thoughts crossing his mind. Kim didn't realize but he had recorded in his mind and put on him the costume of the sentence he always had heard around him. He was a physical worker, he wasn't a mind. He wasn't and Porchay was right to push him. He got carried away, he didn't know why but he had wanted to erase those tears from his round and soft cheeks. He had touched someone without his consent and his warm feeling inside of him just died after realizing it. Kim had ducked his head down, biting his lips, embarrassed about his own behavior and hesitating about his apology when Porchay's voice made him raise his head.

 "Look! P'Kim! Is it pretty?" Porchay joyfully asked after putting the crown on his hair. Kim tilted his head to see the picture better. It wasn't a painting anymore, it was a breathing freshness. It was the soft goldness of glory and the bright warmth of a metaphorical hand taking his own heart inside of its palm. Kim let his mouth open, he let his face show the expression of a lost and blooming attractiveness before taking control over it. He smiled softly. His eyes, fond of the crown on the small head, some hair fighting their way under it. They were struggling, stuck by the floral object and Kim took some out, softly, to give them their liberty back. He didn't even think anymore about his dirty hands, Porchay's smile highlighting his world, inviting him to feel confident in one second, thanks to his spontaneity. Porchay looked up, his expression showing interest in what Kim was experiencing in his hair. He pouted a little. "You're really a gardener..."

"What do you mean?" Kim asked, taking his hand out, blushing a little. He felt as if he got caught right handed into his own fantasy world. He felt that he had acted through his heart and that Porchay just put his finger on it, his skin was cutting out and the boy had an easy access to his truth.

"My strand of hair...you needed to help it...to refresh it...as if I was a flower in need of being cut..."

"Though...I won't ever cut you...won't ever try to hurt you, never." Kim simply said in the most honest voice. And it gave Porchay a thrilling honey taste in his throat. He wanted to just live through it and welcome that throbbing metaphorical emotion all over again.

"You're not like my report..." He chuckled, changing the subject. He needed to breathe normally, to get rid of the honey.

"You stayed a little more than you are used to, sorry, I am taking your time..."

"I willingly gave it to you...if I wanted I would have been upstairs a moment ago..." Porchay said, standing up.

"And would you like to stay outside?" Kim asked, standing too.

"Why not..." Porchay said to not reveal that, in fact, he would love to continue their conversation. But he didn't have time.

"Then...why not come outside? Why not use the table?" Kim asked, still observing the pretty crown on his hair.

"I-...it isn't a bad idea..." Porchay recognized. He never had thought about it. His room was for studying so he was in his room. It was as logical as breathing but Kim just made him see that the most logical could sometimes be changed by another logic. None of them was wrong, there wasn't just one way to look at the world.

It changed their habits. It changed everything. There wasn't a small spot, between the frame of the door and the outside, for them to exchange. They didn't talk anymore but they looked at, they looked at each other, often. Sometimes not knowing that the other one was. It was easy, it was hypnotizing to always see but to never get emotionally invested in a social way, just inside in their chest, feeling happiness to witness their activity, so close and far away at the same time. They were only greeting each other and it began, under the sun, the games of wandering pupils, either seriously working or moving about each other's way. Kim didn't want to stop Porchay in his study, so he worked in the garden, not really communicating verbally anymore. Porchay was taking pauses but it was less obvious than before and now the boy didn't want to make Kim stop his work for him, for them to talk so he was often taking a moment but still looked at his screen, so he wouldn't understand. What was always pouring honey in Kim's heart was the way Porchay often wore the crown of flowers he made. He looked like liking it.