whi10ights
siêu rcm một fic siu đáng iu 316: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60565618
whi10ights
“Ok, but no flowers. This is ugly.”
Still, Charles takes the flowers very carefully, like he’s afraid he’s going to let them fall. They look even tinier in Charles’ hands, but not crushed; as if they were about to bloom in his palm. The stem is the color of Charles’ eyes. Max feels he made a good deal.
•
Reply
whi10ights
“What?” Charles asks. Curt. Or maybe it’s just his lack of English—Max is never sure.
Still, he hands his flowers. “For you.”
“Are you joking?”
Max looks at his flowers, the roots still dangling with dirt. No, it doesn’t feel like a joke. It feels like he’s handing his heart, and Charles is looking down at it in disgust. :))))))))
•
Reply