Parasite

Chapter 7

"Bad ex?" I commented, trying to distract myself from how painfully cold the ice pack she was holding against my stomach was. We were back in her house, and I was sitting on the counter in her kitchen. She was trying to make sure I wasn't dying.

"Worst ex," she sighed. "Also, you never told me you were that reckless."

I snorted, biting back a laugh. "Most people call me suicidal. Reckless is a lot nicer." Wynona wasn't amused.

"Well, you seem to be totally fine."

"Wynona-"

"What, you're suddenly sorry for being a total idiot-"

"I didn't mean it like that. I just thought-"

"I don't need you to 'defend my honor' or whatever the hell you thought that was!"

I shut up. Nodded. "Sorry."

She sighed, placing her hands on either side of my hips, essentially pinning me in place against the counter. She glanced up at me, and brought one hand up to card through my hair before yanking me down into a kiss. I quirked a smile against her lips. Getting her to forgive me was definitely getting easier.

She pulled away, her eyes, narrow and almond shaped, fluttering open to look at me. "Do you wanna go into the garden for a while?"

"Sure," I replied. She stepped back and I hopped off the counter, following her through the house and into the greenhouse. "You gonna give me another lesson on flower meanings I won't remember?"

Wynona groaned, rolling her eyes. "Flower meanings are important, Chris."

I shrugged. "I mean. I guess? But besides you I don't really have anybody to give flowers too, and you have pretty much all the flowers."

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't learn what they mean. Every flower has a story- Oh!" She stopped in her tracks midway through the greenhouse. "You recognize these, right?"

She gestured at a short bush growing out of a pot near one of the long metal tables spanning the length of the greenhouse. There were pink flowers growing off of it, vibrant in an almost unrealistic way.

"Yeah, they're basically everywhere. No idea what they're called though."

"Rocktrumpets. Or Mandevilla, scientific name. These are Mandevilla sanderi," she started. She could be a teacher, with how smart and sure she sounded when she started talking about flowers. "In simple terms, they tend to mean recklessness."

"Why do all the pretty flowers have such negative meanings?"

"All flowers are pretty," she replied. "It just depends on what story they came from. Sometimes it's just color-based, too, though."

I nodded, pretending to understand. Wynona looked over at me, noticing how confused I looked. She hid a laugh behind one delicate hand, shaking her head at me.

"Leave me alone. Math isn't as complicated as this."

"Or maybe you're just a nerd who's better at nerd things than creative things."

"Not true! I'm a musician, that's creative things."

"Yeah, and you're a literature nerd. Flower meanings shouldn't be hard for you."

"Literature is different..."

"Shakespeare used a lot of floriography in his plays."

"What the hell is flori- flor- however the hell you pronounced it."