lately, she's been thinking of the twining she'd done for him. in the early hours of the morning, when she's plucking from herbs and stems, writing messages with petals, she thinks of him, and sometimes she winds together coriander and white clover. stems wrapped together in a lover's embrace, pinned and hanging over her kitchen sink.

roman has showed little interest in her teachings over the years, but still she's left him basil and aster, edelweiss and sometimes, when he's particularly annoying, some geranium. packed in his lunches or left among his things, she speaks to him when he does not listen, or when she can't find the words herself. 

she has one of bo's wrappings tucked behind her ear today. but it's nearing the end of their time. she's finished with most of the greenhouse work early, thanks to his help. it's an odd feeling, and she almost doesn't know what to do with herself. 

the greenhouse is warm and cozy. most of the pokemon are dozing off. thistle is keeping some of the isolated clients some company. 

"i can't believe i'm saying this, but we finished for today," she says with a laugh.

boruta maher

☉

small talk is something she's not good at. now, you'd think so, with how much she can chatter with her customers when they stop by, but there's a difference between discussion amongst strangers and familiars. those who visit her flower shop have come for years. 

so she hefts the berry basket and expects the chance meeting to slide, for them to turn their backs and continue their picking in their own ways, but then he looks warmly at her and gives her his name. 

she repays him in kind with, "willow," and then, feeling like she has to say more, adds, "i swear grace's soil has magical properties. all the berries are delicious." she pauses. "do you come often? i don't think i've seen you before."

LANCE VOLLANS

☉

she pops a couple of them in her mouth, tasting this vine's particular crop. she's not only grabbing ripe ones for eating as is, but some that are a bit over - juicy and a little bit squishy. perfect for the couple of pies she wants to bake. she'll put out some of the slices alongside her garlands over the weekend. 

she's so lost in thought, however, that she startles when she peers through one of the bushes and finds a pokemon staring right back at her. a hand goes to her chest, but she relaxes when she realizes it's a trainer's pokemon, and not a territorial critter from the garden.

she stands and finds said trainer just on the other side of the row of bushes. "oh. sorry about that. didn't mean to intrude. i didn't even notice." she laughs softly and hefts the berry basket on her hip. 

LANCE VOLLANS

☉

the ball rolls to a stop and willow bends to pick it up. elisabet watches the cacnea's attention drift. she scratches idly at the small mark the turtwig had left on her via its inconsequential absorb. willow gives it a once-over, but deems it too small to be of consequence. 

her attention goes back to cian. she hadn't responded to his question immediately. bo gets dodgy about his past whenever she tries to bring it up, but maybe cian might be more forthcoming. 

is this what i do? go behind bo's back? she purses her lips. 

"yeah? things are a bit tough right now," she admits. her heart gives a painful squeeze, reminding her of the month and some change she'd spent worrying after roman and his disappearance. 

"maybe a change of scenery might be good for him. although," she adds, raising a brow, "remind me again why he wants to poke your eye out?"

CIAN MAHER
will catch scatterbug in next post!

☉

all of her anxieties come creeping forth, but rather than draw her down to her knees, she rises. rather than pull her to her bed, tears from her eyes, they pour fury into her shaking shoulders, birth rage in her eyes. you wouldn't guess she hasn't been able to sleep in over a month, not with the way energy crackles off of her in waves. 

one hand is still on roman's shoulder. as though that can stop him from disappearing out from under her. but she doesn't notice the way her fingers are tensing painfully against him, that her teeth are grinding as she stares at the blood spattered over bo's shirt. 

"he's gone for thirty-six days. there's barely any word from you. and the two of you are at a party?" her voice rises an octave. "the soiree, where all the region's most powerful people, avatars included, flocked to...to....to do whatever the fuck they do." 

she throws her hands up. "anything could have happened there! i can't..." she pinches the bridge of her nose and then looks down at roman, softening only for a moment. 

"is what he's saying true, ro?" 

boruta maher  Roman Maher

☉

another day off. she'd given roman the same. at first, it had been an attempt for her to get the boy to willingly spend some quality time with her. she'd asked him out to his aunt grace's farm for her end-of-season berry picking, but he'd not-so-politely opted out and left her with a bitter taste in her mouth. the words fine, i'll go by myself, as if that proves anything to anyone. 

she brings a basil plant tucked under her arm and hands it to grace with a kiss on her cheek. the elderly woman smiles and hands her a basket in return. 

"good wishes to you as well, my dear," she says and willow smiles. grace is about the only other person who knows the language of flowers, hence willow's closeness to her, and her 'auntie' status despite not being a blood relative. 

"no roman today?" she asks and willow sighs. "ah, give the boy time. he'll come around eventually. you ought to have had a daughter. would've saved you a lot of headaches." she chuckles as willow rolls her eyes and brushes past her with a wave. 

usually she can stay and chat with grace about her woes, but she's still high-strung after roman's disappearance. getting away from the house and out in the fields, she thought, ought to do her some good.

so she picks in almost-silence, humming to herself as she examines vines and plucks the juiciest blackberries she can find.

LANCE VOLLANS

☉

i'm not gonna disappear on you anymore. 

she wants to believe him. she wants so desperately to believe him. but trust is something that doesn't happen in an instant, so she accepts his words quietly, and lets silence lapse between them. and when the tension becomes too great, she rises. 

"you'll feel weak for the next hour or so. rest up and then be on your way. i'll see you tomorrow." she pauses by the door and she thinks of all the things she could say, but she doesn't say any of them. because those are the words meant for a last goodbye, for a plea to stay. 

and outside, where she can breathe, where gideon is waiting for her, she relaxes. all that she has built is around her and it fills her with a warmth she hasn't felt in some time. 

her muscles ache by the time she's finished planting the gloom inside. sweat licks her arms, her brow, and she smells ripe after the long day. 

and then adelaide is home. they exchange their warm pleasantries as they chop vegetables and prepare a casserole for dinner. she helps her mother eat while roman scarfs down his food. she watches him, and she sees bo in him, and she wants so badly to tell him that his father is home. that his father wants to see him. 

but she tucks him into bed with a kiss and retreats to her room and cries for the heartache that will inevitably be there in the morning. 

elisabet preps the flower stall and willow is tired. an abundance of floral wreaths get situated out front; she'd been busy far earlier this morning. she's setting the change jar out when the door opens. and she can't really believe her eyes, but he's there. 

he comes, each day he said he would, and each day she teaches him about the flowers, about the greenhouse, and about the plants. she keeps him away from the poison-types, as promised, and shows him how to fertilize, how to clip old growth to make way for new. 

and finally, one day, she says, "you really do want this, don't you?"

boruta maher

☉

elisabet is a formidable foe, though only when she wants to be. the nurturing pokemon is often content with her duties on the atkins property, but even she comes to crave the call of battle every once in a while. willow can tell this is how she's feeling now. 

her dainty feet splay, antennae twitching as she senses the movements of the oncoming pokemon. the seedot rolls away from them in fright as soon as it sees them, but the turtwig holds her ground. vines creep out from under her shell, but they look stunted, unable to create a vine whip. 

elisabet skitters forward like a praying mantis, arms outstretched to deliver a swift x-scissor to the pokemon. its shell takes the brunt of the hit and it buckles. green light gathers around elisabet as the turtwig attempts to absorb some of her life force, but she strikes again, felling the turtle with her second blow. 

willow approaches, withdrawing a nest ball to tap against the turtwig. 

"she'll need some work. we'll have to see why her vines won't grow," she says to the leavanny. louder, and over her shoulder, she says to cian, "let's find something to work that cacnea. he's gonna need it against my son."

CIAN MAHER
catching turtwig!

☉

she watches him now, curiously, wondering if he'd known, if perhaps that's what had prompted him to make his move. his father had liked bo, up until realizing what he'd 'done to his daughter' (not that it takes two to tango or anything). they used to joke, as she grew older and roman did too, that bo had been lucky about their transfer, that he'd have strangled the boy with his bare hands if they hadn't moved. 

but from his expression, it's clear to her that he didn't know. she almost feels sorry for that too. the incense continues to burn, curling smoke, and she sighs, waves him off. 

"it's okay. i mean, we're getting better. one day at a time, yeah?" she twists her hands together and then crosses the bit of distance between them, taps him lightly on his side to get him to shuffle over and give her some room. 

she sits, a little straighter than normal, a little on edge. their shoulders touch - her thighs run flush along his (she hadn't had much meat on her bones before roman). she takes his hand and gives it a squeeze and thinks will he really stay?

"bo, i don't know if this needs to be said, but," she starts, hesitating, "nothing can happen between us. i can't...it's....it's already such a mess right now. you can understand that, right?" she flushes. "not that that's why i think you came back. i know it's not. i just - i have to do what's best for roman. before anything else, we have to do what's best for him."

boruta maher

☉

she will not forgive him for this. she will not forgive him for this hurt and this pain and these sleepless nights. she will not forgive him for her own guilt and shame and the undeniable notion that this is her fault. that she told herself countless times that she was enough, that bo wouldn't have made a difference anyway, but it was a lie. 

gretchen sits in her lap. adelaide offers to stay later, to ask her when was the last time she'd eaten? is elisabet going to run the shop again tomorrow? a few of her clients have asked after their pokemon, are disappointed with her lack of communication, and mr. tarren asked after her, wants to know if he should bring any food for them. 

adelaide drones on and on and then gives her shoulder a shake and willow comes to, puts a hand over hers, and says, "thank you, addie. go home now. we'll see you in the morning."

gretchen purrs in her lap, trying to soothe what anxieties she can, but it's futile. willow stands, jostling the old crone of a cat, and gretchen falls less than gracefully to the floor, tail flicking crossly. willow goes to the kitchen window, to the crawling vines and succulents, and checks their soil, tends to them and overwaters them and curses as she does. 

she wrings her hands. the front door opens and she sighs, brushing dirt, saying, "really, addie. we're okay. go home and r - " she stops and her heart wells, shoulders trembling.

the kitchen is small and she crosses it quickly, grabs roman's shoulders, and yanks him against her as she drops to her knees. she buries her head in his shoulder, hand in his hair, cradling him close.

there will be time to express her anger and her disappointment, but that is not now. not before she understands why he ran, not before she gives him a haven to keep him safe. to keep him in her arms. 

"i love you, sweetheart," she says roughly. "you scared the hell out of me and we're going to talk, but i am so thankful you're home. and you're okay. and you're safe." she pulls back, takes his hands, looks down at them, and stiffens. 

after looking over him quickly to ensure he's not hurt, her gaze snaps to bo. her voice is colder, void of that honeyed warmth lacing her words for roman. "you. talk. now."

boruta maher  Roman Maher

☉

he's groggy as he comes to. she'd seen him like this before - half awake, opening his eyes to the dawn. except then she wasn't over a foot away from him, arms wrapped around herself to preserve more distance between them. she finds herself relaxing, though, as he jests. 

"no," she says, not working at all to hide her amusement, "you didn't. granted, i didn't start you with the easiest task in the world. i'll keep you away from the poison types if you come back." if, she says. she glances away. 

her gaze settles on the guitar and she rolls her eyes. bo had witnessed her first guitar - the one she'd scrounged up and saved for months as a birthday gift to herself, only to have her father gift her a lovely spruce one of brilliant make. 

she'd dropped it when roman came along. when bo left. and then somewhere along the way, she picked it back up. she stands, touches the neck of it, and frowns. 

"i haven't played in a couple months, since..." she bites her lip. "my father passed." 

she gestures to the shack. "we built this together, you know. you know how he was. always wanted something to do with his hands." her lips twinge. "he's probably rolling in his grave right now, with you lounging on the daybed." 

boruta maher

☉