Drake finds himself at a loss.

Courting is not something he ever imagined himself doing. He is a man trapped by science; deep in a lab he works, tirelessly, and the grip on his fragile self as more than a tool is too weak to handle heartache. Yet here he is, thought aflutter by the grass specialist he met a few days ago. Oozy had wanted to visit the Budew again. Drake was hoping to make his interest more clear with a gift of flowers.

But there were so many and Drake didn't know anything about flowers. So he hung back, unsure, frozen by his own inadequacy as he watched patrons go too and fro.

A man catches his eye not because he is suspicious, but because he stares at the flowers as if they hold something precious. He is gentle with the one he strokes as if it births universes before him, timeless, fragile, harsh.

"Excuse me," Drake starts, approaching slowly, not sure where why he thinks it's in him to interrupt. "Do you know much about flowers?"

---

@dae

hope you don't mind me stepping in! c: