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— in which he was a constant in your life, but you still chose the other one

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— in which he was a constant in your life, but you still chose the other one.

— heather - conan gray

— 2.6k words

"Daisies."

Basking in the sunlight on the front porch of the Kamisato Estate, sits two individuals. One's a man with blonde hair complimenting the sunny sky, his emerald hues containing its focus on the piece of cloth in front of him, knitting away at it.

Beside him is a young girl, her [h/c] bangs swaying with the morning breeze as she sits cradling a book that holds countless pages about the language of flowers. An interest of hers that remained by her throughout her years of living. 

It was quite the sight, a pair frolicking in their hobbies while sitting next to each other. 

Thoma hums, his expression conveying curiosity as to why you suddenly spoke up. "Daisies? What about them?"

With a slight maneuver of your hands, you point at a certain place of a page you're reading, Thoma's green eyes following your movement. The tip of your finger lands on an image of a daisy, scribbles of words about its habitats and science beneath its petals right next to it.

"This flower suits you, Thoma." He stares at you from his peripheral vision, momentarily ignoring the book to appreciate the way your lips quirk up in a small smile, eyes slightly dilated in amusement. He figures you're probably imagining a daisy tucked in his ear.

Quickly retaining his focus once more, he returns his gaze back to the book, folding the unfinished sweater he was making onto his lap. He poses yet another question, eyebrows raising in peculiarity. "How so?" he says in wonder as he examines the information laid next to the image.

"Daisies convey innocence, loyalty and purity." you turn to him, your smile not once faltering. "It's like you. Pure and loyal." you say fondly, staring into his emerald hues with an intense feeling of adoration.

Thoma can't deny the fact that he feels butterflies in his stomach at the way you speak and look at him. This isn't proper behavior though, since he's a mere keeper and you're now a noble lady. But he'll dismiss it for now. For both of your sakes as long time friends.

"I don't exactly think I should be compared to a flower than embodies innocence..." he quietly says in uncertainty, eyes dropping down to stare at the book once more, reading more flowers about their habitats and meanings; one in particular catching his attention. A yellow tulip.

"Are you trying to say something, Thoma?" you perk up, your kind smile turning into a teasing smirk at his suggestive remark, making him quake in his composure as heat builds up in his cheeks, honest eyes meeting your mischievous ones in a rush.

"T-that's not what I meant!" he panics, "I was just trying to say that I'm the known of many connections, some good and some bad-"

A snort escapes your lips, cutting off his rant while you slowly break out into laughter. Your hand rises to your eyes, wiping away the slight tears that formed in the process as you breath out your last bits of mirth, "Sorry, sorry...I know you didn't mean it that way. I was joking."

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