nacho goes back to staring obsessively at willow's earring after bo gently lets it go. she narrows her eyes at the pokemon still in her arms and when he goes to raise a paw again, she drops him rather unceremoniously. he plunks to the ground, tail slapping the tile quite loudly. 

his sulking doesn't last long, not with shelves full of toys of such interesting textures and sounds and tastes. 

she keeps a bit of her attention on him (with spidey-mom senses) and watches bo peruse the shelves. 

seeing this stuff in the flesh, it's a little odd to imagine bo teaching roman how to throw punches. will she live to regret this? probably. but maybe bo's right and this is just what he needs. 

"so, you gonna set it up at your place or mine?"

she checks her phone to keep an eye on the time and with a sinking feeling, realizes she's missed quite a few texts and a call from lance. damn it. my date. she frowns down at the phone and starts to type something. she falters, backspaces, and then just pockets it, reminding herself to reach out later. 

boruta maher

☉

she gets a little wrapped up in it herself and doesn't quite see the expression of awe on greyson's face, but she can certainly hear it. his comfey wraps gently around her wrist and she pulls her arm up to smile down at her. it makes her stop her fidgeting, her moving, for just a second. she's able to look up and really appreciate all they've done. 

"thank you, you silly sprite," she murmurs.

she shrugs at his comment of going on sharpedo tank. she couldn't think of anything less she'd want to do with her father's work. that's not what this is about. not for her, at least. 

"let's," she agrees, deciding to table that discussion for later, if it ever comes down to it. she'd brought one of the bottles close by, with some gogoat cheese and crackers, knowing he'd want to try it as soon as he arrived. so why not make a special occasion of it?

she exits the hive and plops right down in the grass, delving into the picnic basket she'd hidden beside the hive. the honey's in a small mason jar with a sticker on the front, white save for the black script that says batch 1 - wildflower. 

again, it's unfiltered, so there's a thick consistency to it, with pollen having settled on top. she takes a knife and stirs it around a bit before slathering it on top of two crackers. 

"i haven't had a chance to buy the things we'll need for filters. i'm sure i have some buckets laying around we can use. but i was thinking if you do want to start filtering it, we could save the wax for other things. candles, soaps, i don't know. we might even just be able to sell it to a few people i know who could use the raw material.

"anyway, sit." she pats beside her and holds out the cracker for him. honey dribbles down its side, past her thumb. "and let's toast."

Greyson Connors

☉

the low timbre of his voice. bridled anger. even if eleanor doesn't understand his words, she gets the tone. she goes silent. and the floorboards creak as bo shifts his weight and looks at her. willow hears all these sounds and not-sounds, but they're far away, curtained by the pulse pounding in her ears, the gasps that still sputter from her lips. 

something's not right something's not right something's not right. is she broken? is she wrong? is she dying? heart attack? is that what this is? body quivering, stuck in an endless loop of fight or flight, and then bo's hand on her shoulder. 

flight. 

she recoils, wide-eyed. hadn't noticed him before. not past the thumpthumpthump. her fingers curl against her chest, the hollow of her throat. the other hand goes reaching. it clumsily grabs his hand. fingers slippery, not working right. don't leave. she's dizzy. the world totters and warmth slicks her cheeks. 

"wh- bo. i. i. can't. breathe." wide eyes meet his. recognition sparks. make it stop. help. please. please. please. 

boruta maher  & Roman Maher

☉

she takes everything in as bits and pieces. behind her, her mother, still murmuring exasperated, desperate nothings to herself. the weight of responsibility bears down across her shoulders. the stress pinches her back, spreads prickles down her spine, her wrists, the curve of her jaw because she can't stop tensing.

and here she sees bo, a menacing beast of a man, towering over their son. a spitting, wailing, vile thing writhes on the ground. gretchen cowers in the corner of the room, ears flat, tail curled around herself. 

even if you try to kill me. 

roman, standing wide-eyed. she reads every emotion flitting across his face and it mirrors her own. dread settles in the pit of her stomach. 

she should stop him. she should do something. she should throw him in her car and get him a psych eval. but he goes and she watches the pokeball roll across the floor. the caterwauling cat won't give it a rest and upon noticing willow isn't up to the task, elisabet skirts beside it and taps the return button on the capsule. 

she holds a hand to her mouth to cover her quivering lip, but it doesn't matter anyway. a sob rips from her and she crumples, finally giving way under every fucking ounce of stress she's been feeling. 

she slides back against the doorframe of her mother's bedroom. her hand comes down from her mouth to her chest. because her chest is tight and she's having trouble getting enough air and her shallows breaths aren't working and she doesn't ask for help because all she can say, over and over again, is "i'm sorry i'm so sorry i'm sorry" when really she doesn't know what's happening or why she can't turn it off and why everything's going a hundred miles a minute and her mother is still calling for her and calling for her father, but her father's gone and their family hasn't been a family since he passed and she can't do it alone, not anymore, not anymore, not anymore and why can't she breathe? 

boruta maher  & Roman Maher

☉

well, he's true on those fronts. willow has her meditation pillows set up in the shed, but they haven't seen much use in the past few...years. mostly she uses them when she's practicing guitar, but even then she oftentimes prefers standing. 

she looks to the tauros again and says, "honestly, she can have 'em." she's still not happy with buckwheat after his nearly gouging a hole in her side and then nearly doing the same to roman (except he'd gotten away without crippling bruises). 

the water bottle gets its cap screwed back onto it. she loops it around her finger and goes to greyson's side so they can walk the path to the bee boxes together - she'd put down some more stepping stones to help wear the grass down a bit. 

it's still early enough that the vespiquen and combee are out pollinating. she goes to the ramp on one of the boxes and pulls it down. the hive's side pops open, ramp thudding into the grass, and she gestures for greyson to go up. 

"you'll see they took really quickly to the wood. they're nearly all filled with honeycomb. our designs panned out really well. it's slanted just enough for the excess to drip down the slats, but there's still plenty for the bees themselves. i already have a few bottles, unfiltered still, but i've been waiting to try it with you."

Greyson Connors

☉

she frowns. she'd have thought he'd like to hear that she sees some of him in roman. because in those spare moments she's talking about, when he's outside playing drums with D.K., with no one to show off to and he's just a kid - a rowdy, boisterous, carefree kid - she sees bo. she sees his joy and his love of the world and she wishes, gods she wishes it would stay. 

her hands are full with the vaporeon, but if they weren't she'd have reached out. she'd have done something other than frown worriedly at him while trying to figure out what to say. 

nacho bats at the earring playfully. she doesn't think anything of it. gretchen's too old to really give a shit about anything anymore and playfulness was never in her genes to begin with. so she doesn't understand why bo tenses until she feels that sharp tug on her ear. 

she winces, head tilting toward the vaporeon. bo makes a bigger scene of it than he needs to and as he trips over an apology, she bursts out laughing. 

"do you know how many times roman swiped me as a baby?" or how her stomach is still splotched with green and purple bruises from the tauros that nearly impaled her last week? or the time she dropped her shears from her hands and ripped a gash in her leg? 

she helps untangle the earring and then bops nacho on the nose. "don't apologize. it's in his nature." but now, hands free, she takes a moment to put a hand on his arm, expression turning serious. 

"i don't know what's going through your head right now, but you have to relax. stop beating yourself up and enjoy today." she rolls her eyes. "'cause that's what i'm doing."

boruta maher

☉

while she's had her fair share of drink before, especially after a long day's work when it really hits just right, the couple she'd had before bo and cian had arrived, coupled with what she's currently drinking, and the plain and simple fact that she isn't as young as she used to be - well, the bottom line is that she's tottering into tipsy territory. 

her smile is languid and it comes easier. her stress starts to melt away - some of that tension that she always carries in her shoulders begins to ease. and being beside roman is easier. she's less aware of the fact that every moment can be catastrophic if he so desires. 

she raises her glass when bo finishes them off, side-eyes roman, but still with that grin on her face. 

"cheers," she says. "to love and togetherness and to the start of what will be a long-standing tradition." caden maher will come to the next one because there will be a next one. and maybe roman will have grown up a bit by then.

she grabs a serving spoon and piles a stack of fresh green beans on roman's plate and then takes a healthy serving for herself. most of the vegetables and even the breads were sourced locally, given to her by friends and loyal patrons of the flower shop. in return, she'd gifted them garlands, woven them crowns. 

"samuel, pass me the biscuits," eleanor says, blinking at bo. 

boruta maher  CIAN MAHER  Roman Maher

☉

"i've been great. busy as a combee with the spring bloom, but you know i love the work." she grins at greyson's enthusiasm. it's not often that he visits, but when he does, she can see that it's something like an escape for him. and just like it is the pokemon that rest in her greenhouse, she welcomes it wholeheartedly. a part of her is proud to know that everything she's done has proven so therapeutic to someone else. 

"of course," she says. "you know the rules." as long as they mind their manners and don't fuss with the property or its inhabitants, what's willow's is greyson's. "but maybe a couple of yours can teach cowslip and buckwheat some manners," she adds, nodding to the tauros. 

"your vespiquen have been amazing for the flowers this year."

Greyson Connors

☉

yeah, even when they were high school sweethearts, she'd had to beg him to shower before crawling under the blankets with her. it's no surprise where roman ever got his ridiculous amount of energy from. she just wished it had manifested in a more creative and less destructive way. 

"yeah, he was. is. in those rare moments i see him when he thinks no one watching, he's just like you."

nacho jumps into her arms and she squeezes reflexively. she's happy to have some modicum of support, even if it's from the vaporeon. she readjusts, moving her hips to readjust the weight, and feels like she's carrying a toddler all over again. 

"don't worry. i've got a pretty good eye. as soon as roman learned how to walk, i didn't sleep for...how many years has it been? ten?" she laughs and reaches up to fiddle with her dangling earring in an attempt to occupy the pokemon.

"looks like sporting gear's down that aisle," she says. 

boruta maher

☉

her mouth is a thin line as she waits for roman's reaction. green eyes lift up to bo, corners softening a bit as he reprimands him, as he stands up for her, but the surprise at the response is evident on her face, if only for a fleeting moment. she beams. the impossible has been done. her son has apologized. 

was it a perfect apology? no. but she'd take what she can get, and right now it feels like a whole lot. she reaches over and places her hand over roman's, squeezes, and then draws back, knowing the last thing he wants is her fawning over him. 

"thank you," she says. 

louder, she adds, "well, that makes it my turn next. this year, i learned...that i don't have to do everything myself." she thinks of ophelia, helping run her day-to-day at the flower shop, and of greyson, who's helped bring one of her dad's dreams to life. and of bo, who's proven his loyalty a million and one times over. 

"and the best day i can remember...hmm..." she bites her lip. a lot of memories about someone pop up and she feels a twinge of guilt; she looks away from bo, towards cian and roman, and then smiles. "honestly, it might sound cheesy, but i'd have to say today." 

and with that, she grabs her cider and then tilts it in cian's direction before taking another drink. 

boruta maher  CIAN MAHER  Roman Maher

☉

it's truly a marvel, seeing the fruits of their labor flourish. she's tending to the garden, replanting the oddish and gloom that she'd had to bring indoors for winter. the roselia are still a bit too finicky; she'll have to leave them for another week, when the weather stops chilling when the sun goes down. those balmy nights are coming quickly and she can't wait for them. it's her favorite time of year, when the greenery is flourishing and the landscape swells with pollen and spring rains. 

greyson's vespiquen have taken to the boxes and the combee have already exceeded willow's expectations for honey-making. 

she knows she owes it to her father, first of all, so she lights some incense for him when she's on break, dirt on her knees and her forehead. she takes a swig of water and watches the bees flit around, spreading pollen over her flowerbeds. 

her tauros chase about her miltank and her small herd of deer pokemon graze on the fringes of her property, watched carefully by foxglove and lus. 

when gretchen yowls, signaling the arrival of someone else on the property, willow raises a hand and grins. 

Greyson Connors

☉

and just like that, the bags are out of her possession. she stops momentarily, just in time to watch him flex as he readjusts to accommodate the weight in his hands. and then she frowns, gaze skirting away as something comes over her. but the relief in his stature and in his cheeks is enough to melt away some of the tension. 

"i gave up on some of his clothes, you know," she says, slipping back into conversation with ease. "when he was younger and all he wanted to do was play in the dirt. pa tried to get him to help farming, but that worked about as well as you'd think. but he'd come in for dinner caked in dirt.

"he had dirt outfits. 'cause i couldn't get the stains out of them after a while. i had to wash them separately. it was a whole thing." she shakes her head. her dad was just as sweaty and dirty and the two of them had sure looked like something when tromping back into the house for dinner. 

everything was simpler, back then. 

and on the right looms a pokemart. surprise, surprise, but willow doesn't often shop at the big chains like this. the fact that the mart is built around several trees is astonishing; more so is the interior. sleek and modern. 

she looks down at nacho. "this place is going to be a playground for him." then she clicks her tongue and taps her chest, ps-psing to try to get the vaporeon to hop into her arms. 

boruta maher

☉

she thanks the clerk and takes the bags. with everything else in her hands, she looks a little bit ridiculous walking beside bo, but asking him to hold her things just... it's out of the question for her (because asking for help? now? how could she?) she shifts her shoulders and definitely doesn't miss the disappointment that seeps into his voice. 

normally she's pretty bad about having her phone on her, but lately she's been more on top of it - point of reason being in case roman/adelaide need her or lance wants to get hold of her. 

and, surprised by bo, she'd completely forgotten she'd promised to meet up with her new significant other for a date tonight. 

"you said you wanted to get gloves and a bag? well, let's find something sturdy." she snorts. "and easy to clean."

boruta maher

☉