カンタレラ

親切

(Y/n) saw the carriage outside ride away. With his heart ever so heavy, he let himself wander into the garden.

The (s/c) man used to love the garden. His mother had let him pick a few flowers to plant, and his father taught him how to take care of them. Now the garden was neglected, left to rot where Daniel and Anthony had ripped up the flowerbeds.

He just didn't have time to tend to it anymore.

(Y/n) knelt in the dirt, spilling his tears onto the barren soil as cool moonlight spilled over him. He jolted when a rather warm hand began stroking along his back.

"Oh, my poor dear... are you alright?"

(Y/n) lifted his teary gaze. Through the blurriness of his vision, he could just barely make out the silhouette of a woman leaning on an old walking stick.

"Wh-who are you?"

She smiled down at him, stroking her thumb under one of his eyes to clear his tears away.

"I'm your godmother, Floura."

"God... mother?"

Floura nodded. She took (Y/n) by the arm and pulled him to his feet.

"Now, come along. You can't go to a ball dressed in... that."

The (taller/shorter) followed Floura's gaze to his ruined suit.

"Oh, I'm... not... going..."

His voice grew smaller and weaker with each word.

"Sure you are."

Floura gently dragged (Y/n) along, placing him in a better position under the moonlight.

"Let's see..."

He watched in bewilderment as Floura waved her walking stick around... only for his suit to mend itself around him.

Not just that. It seemed to be... making itself into an entirely new suit altogether.

The taupe was slowly blending into a (f/c) hue, and delicate (gold/silver) embroidery of vines began to appear along the jacket and pants.

Finally, his old work shoes replaced themselves with a pair of glass dress shoes.

"That's better."

(Y/n) looked himself over, completely in awe of the silken suit that seemed to fit him perfectly. Floura smiled as she handed him a matching masquerade mask.

The (taller/shorter) happily put it on.

"Now we just need something to get you there..."

Floura glanced around the garden until her gaze landed on a lone pumpkin, the only plant still growing. With another wave of her stick, the pumpkin grew and became a carriage. A mouse, startled by the commotion, ran out from under a bucket and Floura was quick enough to turn it into a coachman.

Attaching the family horse, Atticus, was all too easy after that.

(Y/n) thanked Floura as she pulled him into a hug.

"Now, dear... this will all last only until midnight. You must be home by then. Understood?"

The (s/c) man nodded enthusiastically. Floura helped him into the carriage and watched him set out with a smile on her face.