Floret

03

" When you can not look on the bright side,
I will sit with you in the dark. "

It might be rude to follow her, sure, but he was curious as to what was taking so long. An archway where she disappeared to, it was tall and unwelcoming, as if warning him he might not like what he should find. His eyes attempted peering through the frilly, and again rose bud pink, lace curtains but he saw no girl, he smelled no food, and could hear no sound.

Pulling aside the soft lace he entered the quiet kitchen, sleek mahogany counters and cabinets, all untouched and fresh. He stopped for a moment or two to cock his head in confusion before he heard a sniff.

He followed the noise, a backdoor where she sat beside a fire pit, her eyes glossed over as if she really were a fragile doll. He stood there, his heart crumbling for he didn't mean to make her cry, she hugged her knees and wiping her eyes stood up.

The grass was healthily short, sky clear and soft, awaiting its companion to close the day.

He smelled the food then, overtop the fire lay salmon and a variety of vegetables placed overtop. She noticed him, standing up straight she wiped her eyes vigorously before attending to him. The rumor he had brought to her attention had surfaced unwanted memories of the past.

"Sorry, I thought you could use something warm," and she gestures to the fire, "I, embarrassingly enough, don't know how to work the stove," she seems to ramble on but he isn't listening.

He stares at the girl before him, "you did this all for me?" He isn't used to the empathy and compassion she had been showing him, it'd been as if he were a singular rose who had been plucked. No one dare touch him for fear of the thorns his frame possessed, she on the other hand held him tight, his thorns piercing her but her grip far too strong.

As if she was saying, "I'm not giving up."

"Of course," she mused with a seemingly confused grin, "it's only proper hospitality, Cain." He smiled to himself softly, she was being far too modest.

And he found that he loved to hear her lips hold his name, her accent wrap around it. He studied her a bit further, the two standing in an unusually comforting silence. The only sound the fire crackling and the fish simmering.

They were so different from the other. Her porcelain skin was flawless and the only hint of color were her rosy cheeks. Him on the other hand, unsightly scars sat atop his sun kissed skin, a stretch of caramel.

Her eyes were soft and welcoming, chocolate covered eyes that held forgiveness. His were cynical, a jaded green that intimidated her, this much he knew.

Her strawberry blonde hair cascaded down over her shoulders, combed and fragrant. He found himself longing to run his fingers through it. His hair was unruly, just as he was. Unkempt curls and overgrown locks. Not only in appearance were they different either.

She was seemingly prosperous and privileged, everyone loved her despite the strange rumors that told she did not have a name nor did she have a family. He was penniless, a common street rat that had to become hard around the edges so as to survive. But he would never be a beggar, he made sure to vow that much.

She beckoned him to come and sit beside her, a blanket spread out and plates waiting. Fried fish and fried vegetables, onions and peppers layering the plate. His stomach groaned once in response. When was the last time he'd eaten?

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. This boy has too much pride you should know, he handles the plate with such care. "For what?" She inquires, though he doesn't answer right away. They both sit in silence, the fire still crackling, the soft July wind flowing through her hair.

The smell of roses and strawberries invading his senses. No, not invading, these scents were welcome but only because they came from her. The two danced around him, filling him with her.

"You're strange," she says, a small smile on her peachy lips. He's baffled by her comment, he thought her the strange one after all.

"As are you," he mocks offense, a ghost of a smile sitting atop his lips. And he never felt this at ease before which scared him, but in a good way.