the spoon is pointed at her and despite the chaos around her she thinks, oh, he has definitely overstirred it. the pancakes will be thin and watery. she should just shake a bit more flour in, but she doesn't. she'd rather have watery pancakes made by his gesture. 

ollie apologizes and they can move on, except she does color a bit and says, "the cheek. you got me on the cheek," before bo gets the wrong idea. arceus, maybe she should stuff one of roman's socks in his mouth. 

"you're already a better friend than i could ask for, ols," she says, finally softening. "heck, i don't know where ro and i would be without you. people make mistakes, but how else are they supposed to learn if we don't give them room to grow?

"bo, you'll want to flip those when the top starts to bubble."

ollie morales boruta maher

☉

she mouths it to his back as he says it, smirking all the while. it brings her a small measure of joy to know she can still, after all this time, anticipate him, and he's a man of habit and comfort. she does, though, ready herself to argue over who's paying, but decides against it. 

it's okay to let him buy you dinner.

their boots crunch on the gravel path outside. the ashen wind carries with it a light chill and she hunches her shoulders, but she doesn't step back in for her jacket. a few minutes of hard work and she'll be warm. 

"i know that," she says, but her voice sounds smaller than she wants it to. stress pinches the corner of her eyes, the draw of her lips. it's hard to admit to herself that still, after all this time, she's still waiting for the other shoe to drop. funnily enough, it was easier when he wasn't sharing her house, and her bed, and her company all the time.

then she could whisper to herself those very same words - he wouldn't leave her, not again. 

"through sickness and in health and all that, mm?" she teases before realizing just what she'd been insinuating, and just as quickly she adds a bounce to her step and tears into the greenhouse to grab her shears and a couple of buckets. 

boruta maher

☉

he agrees, and it's not much - just a couple plans for dinner, a few meals at most - but it brings her some comfort. they'll have meals squared away for the next few days. she still has some flour left; she'll bake some fresh sourdough for the week and it'll go great with the pasta. 

maybe she'll bake two loaves. she'd had to readjust in little ways, since bo moved in with them. she hadn't forgotten that he basically has four stomachs, but it was a bit of a scramble when he first settled in. groceries doubled. pickings doubled.

but he's at the table, and roman is getting better, and for the first time in a very, very long time, things feel right. 

they pass through the flower shop and willow hooks a couple of masks from thumbtacks on the wall. she holds one out for bo and then tucks her own on, pulling her hair out from under the straps and into a pony to keep it off her face. 

it's too bad he can't see her wry smile, but her eyes do glitter with amusement. 

"out? where do you want to go?"

boruta maher

☉

what is it with men coming into her life, blowing it up, and then skedaddling before they have to deal with any of the fallout? is it just a man thing? he calls himself an idiot and yeah, he's right, but willow snaps her hand out to grab him by the wrist. 

that's the thing about her anger. it's like flash paper. it burns up real quick. 

"sit down, ollie." gods, she sounds like she's talking to roman. but maybe that's what he needs. hell, maybe that's what she needs right now. to yell at someone who isn't her son. 

"you shouldn't go. you should accept that you did a rude thing, and also apologize to bo. and me." when she's sure he won't bolt, she leaves him to join bo at the stove. her brows raise at the sight of the overbeaten pancake mix, but she doesn't say anything. they'll taste okay regardless. 

"do five and use the cast iron here," she says, standing on her tip-toes to grab it where it hangs off rungs over the stove. "but let it heat up for a bit first." she lay a hand over the small of his back, wanting contact, feeling overtly possessive, still kind of mad at ollie for making her feel that way in the first place.

boruta maher ollie morales

☉

willow is stuck ping-ponging between her anger with bo and her anger with ollie, but in the end, ollie, unfortunately, wins out because he kissed her son's father after penny got together with someone. 

bo's brother!

ollie's always been messy when it came to love. she knows this. she's adored it about him. but now that it's here, in her home, and...and he has the gall to get offended when bo calls him an asshole!

her cheeks flood red and her biggest pet peeve about herself creeps outward. when she cries, it's out of anger. 

"stop it! you could have told me! you should have told me! gods, and when we were at the bar?" were ollie's drunk smiles more than that at the bar? didn't he ask them to sleepover? 

"let me make this really simple for you, ollie. you don't want to hurt people? stop kissing your friends!"

ollie morales boruta maher

☉

they're new to this part - stress on already too-burdened shoulders, a homestead to look after, a livelihood to keep up with. but he feels as part of the house as anything else. her head tilts, stretching a sore muscle she'd overworked by hauling too much manure at once. soft greens close and only for two breaths does she allow herself the feeling of being taken care of. 

"yeah, well, he's not going to get very far," she says. elisabet can track him down, if nothing else. 

will follows behind bo, ghosting a hand over his lower back before he can tromp down the stairs. 

"i know most of the veggies didn't make it this year, but i should still be able to make some zucchini bread for tomorrow. and i think we can do pasta for dinner; we'll have to get the rest of the tomatoes," she says, thinking through the process while she tucks on her own boots and follows him down.

"maybe we sell the cattle too. no point in bulls if i can't get my hands on a miltank."

boruta maher

☉

the words, meant to be an explanation, are like a slap in the face and willow has to bite her tongue before she accidentally explodes on the two of them. her patience is rattled, a little off kilter, but she's the mother of npc roman maher. gods know she's pretty much a saint in the patience department.

"you still kissed my best friend," she says. not as hotly as she could say it, but still.

ollie scrambles too and hearing him bumble about it only makes this all the more humiliating for her. she hangs her head in one hand, spies fingers reaching for her, and snaps her free hand back. her greens are startled, but her astonishment is at her own reaction.

"what's...what's wrong with you! you kiss bo, you try to kiss me, i just - ollie, what is wrong with you?"

boruta maher ollie morales

☉

she believes it because despite everything, despite how hard everything is right now, he's here. he's here and he's promised he's not going anywhere. there are doubts sometimes - of course there are - but she tried putting half her heart into loving him all over again and only ended up hurting them both. 

he draws his hand from hers and she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, finishes the last of her own coffee, and stands from her creaky chair. 

"the league still needs our honey. they won't let anything happen to us here," she says softly, firmly. Greyson Connors promised her they'd keep her family safe. he can't help the weather, or the gods wreaking havoc on their lands. 

shaking hands rinse out her mug, swipe the rim with a sponge, and are firm by the time she shakes it out and puts it on the drying rack. she sucks in a breath, puts on her bravest face, and reaches for her mask.

"alright. let's go get some shears and send some messengers to get the word out. i'm sure roman's looking for something to do. he can help the bugs." her butterfree and venomoth can dance around town; folks will know what it means.

boruta maher

☉

last year, things were getting better. sure, the region had its fair share of hiccups, but she fooled herself into thinking that they were in their own little world, removed from it. bo was here, not there, and so nothing could touch them. nothing could hurt them.

with no flowers to pollinate, the bees haven't been active. she's had to work with them to make sure they don't go dormant. the honey's just about the only thing keeping them afloat right now. 

she hooks her thumb in his and tugs his heavy hand up to her lips, kissing softly. d-e-a-t-h, spelled out on his knuckles. she tucks her fingers under his and swallows another mouthful of coffee.

"we can restructure the greenhouse. more folks have been bringing their grass-types over. we just...we'll need to start charging more." the words taste sour as she says it and she hates it. she hates it. 

hates seeing her community suffer more than anything in the world. but she has to look out for her family. she has to look out for roman first. 

boruta maher

☉

the flowers are suffering. at the peak of their season, forces outside of their control made the ash rain heavier than ever before. fallarbor citizens wear masks now to protect their lungs from the worst of the soot. it's a constant, losing battle. 

her water-type pokemon spray away what they can throughout the day, but her flower beds are choked mercilessly by the thick blankets of soot. 

"that's it," she says over coffee. "we have to harvest what we can today or they're just not going to make it." stress lines worry her face. "maybe we could do a blowout sale?"

boruta maher

☉

she gives him a look like really? and doesn't laugh only because he really seems perplexed by his newfound responsibility. he's growing up, she realizes, and it's frightening. she almost envies him as much as she is annoyed by it - she, who'd had to let her own childhood go when she was so, so young.

"you keep doing what you're doing. take it from a woman who got pregnant at sixteen, ols. you'll learn fast because you have to and you'll figure things out as you go."

she takes his hand, squeezing hard, smiling brightly. "and your friends and family are gonna be right there with you to support you when you need help. i'll always be here for you."

ollie morales

☉

there is something to be said for regret. they tell you not to, but here, now, as she curls her fingers in his hair, as he trails heat down her side, she sees it for what it is - a promise that, if the opportunity to rectify mistakes came again, she would surely take it. and all of those agonies, all of those lonely nights, are made gray in the shadow of this perfect, golden moment. 

love me, she thinks. love me as i've loved you for a lifetime and love me longer still, and bo, know i'll always love you in return. 

this promise made with trailing fingers, the tightening of her thighs against his hips, all the rest of her care cast aside as verdant heat grips her. grass sticks to her skin, twines through her hair. she doesn't notice the brush of dirt on her cheek. 

"please," she whispers softly, thickly, as she fumbles with the button of his jeans. 

boruta maher

☉