"Make my son fall in love with you."
"But he's gay."
-♚-
He became rainbow, and she became rain; for when the future king of Roséton unveiled his sexuality on the night of enthronement, Flora Rose...
" for what was now ruins, had once been kingdoms "
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S I X c o n c o r d a t o f f l e u r
HER WORDS LINGERED like a thorn amongst my bouquet of thoughts. Eyes distant and glazed, unblinking, I let my thinking overcome me, crashing down like a cascade of water and I couldn't help but think of Stephen. He was always on the recesses of my mind, but after the queen's revelation, something like an inkling of hope grew within me.
But then, the hope shriveled and wilted as it had always had, because as much as he used to like me before, I doubt I could ever make him like me again.
If he knew about this, I knew he would be undoubtedly furious — at me, at this matchmaker guy, and at his own mother. I could still turn around and back out of her plan, run towards the flower fields and never return, but my mouth had been shut tight by the emotions welling within.
This was all wrong and I knew it; but I was stupid and selfish and still hopelessly in love, and it hurt me to even think of him.
"Hey, Flower." Somebody snapped their fingers in front of me. "Flower."
"Huh? What? Who's there?" I blinked wildly.
As reality had dawned over me, my senses kicked in, and I noticed the matchmaker guy with the white hair look at me curiously. "You've been starin' at me for a while."
"Oh, uh," I muttered, "sorry."
He chuckled for whatever reason. And somehow, it was lulling to my ears. "You 'kay? You really spaced out."
"I'm fine."
With a purse to his lips and with the narrowing of his eyes, I suddenly felt naked, like I was being observed under a microscope. Through those green patches that were his irises, it felt like a fire ignited from within. And it burned, scorched, and I could feel it through my skin, through my bones, as though I was dissected from the inside out.
Uncomfortable. That's what I was. My eyes darted away from his own, and I focused it solely on the cup of coffee I was absentmindedly stirring with a teaspoon. I watched how the brown of the water became a whirlpool, a vortex, and suddenly I found myself comparing my own to it.
I was a black hole, capable of destruction, and I could feel the end was coming.
"I can tell you're not." Finally, after the awkward silence, he spoke up.
