by R. Cooper
The light on his phone continued to blink.
He threw away a carton of spoiled cream and resolved not to buy any more to try to make cheaper coffees at home. His shelves required dusting, and Mrs. Galarza’s dogs could probably use a walk.
He came home again to his phone light flashing. His face grew hot to see it, the same fire from the day before raging through him, before leaving him tired.
He dropped onto the couch and picked through a linguistics textbook.
Words were important. Hyacinth had certainly been fond of them.
Start troubling someone, he’d said. But Hyacinth hadn’t been alone in this apartment and didn’t have to see that phone blinking with messages Clematis didn’t want to read. Hyacinth didn’t know everything, despite his age. Walter was more understanding, less pushy. Walter had told his husband to be quiet and then handed Clematis a Coke. If he wondered why Clematis wouldn’t even glance at texts from his friends, he didn’t ask.
He did, however, ask Clematis serious questions about the institute. His eyes really were the deepest blue, for a human. He seemed even frailer than Hyacinth and had difficulty getting out of his chair without help. But when Clematis told him he was doing okay and didn’t want to upset anyone, Walter said in his soft voice, “That’s why you have friends. To get upset for you.”
Clematis shook his head but couldn’t escape the words in his head and the flashing light several feet away. Stephanie wanted to talk. Flor was probably mad. They might forget if he left it long enough.
The rap on the door made him twitch and knock the textbook to the floor.
“Mrs. Galarza is watching. Let me in before she sics the puppies on me,” Flor called out. “I doubt your door is locked, but my hands are full, so come on.” A soft thump followed that, and then Flor lowered his voice. “Clematis? Please?”
For several seconds, Clematis was stuck half-on and half-off the couch, wondering why Flor would ask like that and what he was doing here. Then he scrambled up and went to the door. “You love the puppies,” he said in confusion as he opened it.
His confusion didn’t lessen.
Flor held a big red planter in his arms, the top overflowing with thick, glossy green leaves shaped almost like cartoon hearts.
“Heartleaf?” Clematis identified it blankly before looking up.
Flor swept his gaze over him, then stopped, pulled back, and blinked. “You remembered?” His mouth was already curving into a warm, pleased smile. “I didn’t think you were listening.”
“I always listen to you.” Clematis closed his eyes before he got his mouth shut. “You also said violets, but I wasn’t expecting flowers.”
“Did you want flowers?” Flor asked with so much seriousness that Clematis had to reopen his eyes.
“I didn’t expect anything,” Clematis clarified.
Flor’s smile switched off. “Mmm-hmm. You lose your phone?” He probably would have crossed his arms if they’d been empty.
Clematis fluttered forward. “Let me get that. It looks heavy.”
Flor tilted it away from him and marched inside. He went to the kitchen and put the planter on the counter by the window. “You don’t really cook and this is the best spot unless you get better light in the bathroom or bedroom. Sun, but not too much. You know, I get that I’m smaller than you, but I do lift this kind of stuff all day at work. Now”—he turned on the sink and cupped his palm to catch some water, which he drizzled over the plant—“you just have to make sure the soil stays damp. Not dry, not wet—damp.” He looked at Clematis over his shoulder, his chin almost resting at the torn collar of his pink floral print black tee. “Say you’ll do that.”
“I’ll keep the soil damp,” Clematis answered. “Not dry, not wet—damp.”
Flor’s smile returned, wide and delighted. “I bet you don’t even take notes in class, do you?” He’d fashioned his tee into another half shirt by cutting away the bottom, probably to get it to fit, and then hemming it. The front of the shirt had #aesthetic written on it in bold white lettering.
“I pay attention when it matters.” Clematis realized the door was still open, complete with two Pomeranians watching them. He slowly closed it.
Flor wiped his hand down his side, then seemed at a loss for what to do next. He studied Clematis for another moment and the green plaid boxers Clematis had put on to go walk the dogs, then flicked his gaze away. It happened to fall on Clematis’s phone, untouched and blinking on the coffee table.
“I thought you were angry with me,” Clematis admitted. Yet here Flor was. With a plant.
“You weren’t there!” Flor said in a short burst. He tossed his head. “I was. I was angry—annoyed. You didn’t go to David’s party, but you got him a present?” He made that a question. “Then you didn’t answer me, and when I came by yesterday, the door was unlocked but you weren’t here. You have friends who are more important… then fine, but you could at least answer a text.”
“So you got me a plant?” Clematis didn’t move from the door. “Friends who are more important?”
“You do things none of us know about.” Flor flapped a hand at him, agitated. “Lis. Your Sasha. Your past in Los Cerros. Obviously, they must mean more to you than all of us, but if you care enough to get David a present, I don’t see why you couldn’t tell me you were okay.” Flor cut a look to the side. “He really liked it, by the way. He kept rolling it in his palm until he almost lost it and Tulip put it away to keep it safe. And I did what you suggested. Got him a plant with a card in it. He liked that too. But I was selfish.” Flor bit his lip. “I got him a gift card for food, even though he probably won’t buy anything but bananas and bagels. Is that bad, do you think? I can donate to something too. But he needs to eat, and I worry. He gets paid almost nothing.”
Flor was hardly rich. Clematis shook his head. “I don’t think that’s bad. But I might not be the one to ask. What did, uh, what did Virgil think?”
“Virgil?” Flor put a hand on his hip and squinted at him. “Why would I ask him?”
“Well, he’s your friend, or friend with benefits.” Clematis wasn’t sure why his voice kept wavering. “Or boyfriend, by now.”
“Virgil is not my boyfriend,” Flor denied immediately. “I’m not looking for serious, and he knows that. I just needed someone with me so David wouldn’t think I was sad and Tu—I’m not competing with Tulip. I gave David to Tulip so Tulip could keep him properly. But Tulip is too gentle with me now. I’m not going to break.” He clenched a fist. “Virgil is nice, and he happens to like bowling.” Flor refocused on him. “You weren’t there,” he accused again.
Clematis crossed his arms over his chest defensively, but lifted his chin. “I wasn’t invited. It was fine. I understood.”
Flor tipped his head to one side. “Not invited? Everyone has talked about it. I talked about it with you.”
“Everyone may have talked about it, but none of them mentioned it to me.” Clematis couldn’t say it while looking into those dark eyes. “That wasn’t an accident. Stephanie asked me, but she seemed surprised that I would even consider going. I… I ruined her birthday, Flor. I hurt David—again—and I ruined her birthday.”
“I recall Stephanie forgiving you plenty when we were in the club later that night.” Flor didn’t sound as smug as Clematis might have expected. Maybe he was thinking of his girlfriend at the time, who had worked at that strip club. They had broken up shortly after. Flor huffed. “Stephanie bought you lap dances until you were begging to come, and then you two disappeared into the bathroom, where she made you beg some more.”
“Well, it was her birthday.” Clematis shivered at the memory, all the dancers watching, Flor a table away. He must have been loud if Flor had noticed that much. “And she likes making me beg.”
“And you like doing it,” Flor finished, sort of pissy. “And you two still fuck, so she’s clearly forgiven you.”
“Oh, she likes to remind me.” Another shiver did not seem to impress Fl
or. Clematis wet his mouth and tried again. “You said I like doing it. But I don’t.”
Flor raised his eyebrows, then lowered them menacingly.
Clematis quickly explained further as best he could so Flor wouldn’t think Stephanie had done something wrong. “I didn’t mind the begging,” he corrected. “I like being told what to do.” That wasn’t a secret, but he exhaled with relief after he said it, and Flor continued to listen. Flor didn’t seem to know what face to make, but he wasn’t upset anymore. “I like knowing she’s pleased, and I like not thinking, and—I like it when I’m told I’m good. Which she did.” His voice was low. “Everything else is just a part of that.”
Flor blinked. “Dude,” he said first in a startled whisper as if he were still in high school. A wave of glitter burst from him, which seemed to surprise him. Then he opened the hand he’d had clenched into a fist, before closing it again. “Did she tell you that you were good?”
Clematis was only slightly disappointed to know Flor hadn’t listened to the end. “Yes. She always does.”
Flor released a tiny relieved breath, but then hitched up his shoulders, ready for battle. “So she forgave you and is still your friend and you could have come to the party. David asked after you too, you know.” Flor glowered at the words. “I asked about you. Frangi had no answers. You could have been there.”
“Flor,” Clematis said on a sigh, “everyone thought about it before talking to me, and decided it was safer not to mention it. I understood. It’s okay.”
“Were you all alone here?” The rough note faded from Flor’s voice. “While all your friends were out together? Then it’s not okay.”
“Really.” Clematis wanted to move but had nowhere to go that wasn’t under Flor’s watchful gaze. “It made it easier for everyone, and anyway it’s better that I avoid Tulip right now.” He let his arms fall. “So how was it? Stephanie said it was fun. You got her to bowl? Did she wear the ugly bowling shoes?”
“Nadira got pictures!” Flor said excitedly, then, “So, wait, you talked to Stephanie?” and then, “It was fine. David got cake and all the humans had beer.” Flor wrinkled his nose. “Tulip put a bunch of money in the jukebox, and he and David ended up slow dancing in the middle of their turn. That… made me feel weird. But David was very happy. Then they went back to Tu’s place and everyone started talking about school stuff and nerding out, even Virgil. Eventually everyone went home. It would have been nice to talk to you there.”
Flor was being stubborn.
Clematis pushed himself away from the door and went into the kitchen to get Flor a soda. It gave him something to do. “You’ve ignored me at lots of parties before this one. I don’t see how this is different.”
“I—” Flor’s jaw dropped. “It’s different because we’re real friends now! I admitted I was a dick before. I shouldn’t have put my issues onto you.”
“I’m talking about before I slept with David.” Clematis popped the cap and handed him the bottle.
“So am I,” Flor grumbled but accepted the drink. “Look,” he continued after several seconds of Clematis staring at him, “when I… when I took David’s colors when we were kids, when I broke his heart, we were teenagers. And I was stupid, and I didn’t think about humans and how they feel about sex and all the emotions that can go with it. I didn’t even realize I was in love until the damage had been done. I was a silly, stupid, slutty fairy, and I destroyed him.”
“And then you met me,” Clematis finished for him, with his heart beating in slow motion, “a silly, stupid, slutty fairy. I see.”
“You aren’t that,” Flor insisted, exasperated. “Although not even the dumbest, silliest fairy on earth deserves to have humans talk about them that way. But that definitely isn’t you, and I knew that years ago. I just…. You would do that thing where you pretend, and I’d see you do it, and I would just get so… so irritated.”
Clematis lowered his head. “I wasn’t pretending that much.”
“Yes, you were.” Flor abruptly seemed tired. “The wicked forest prince or the arrogant fuck toy who needs to be broken or the shallow one-night hookup. I’ve seen you do all of those. But do you know when I’ve actually seen you smile? When you find a good coupon.”
Clematis’s mouth was very dry. His breath rasped, felt cold in his chest. Flor saw too much for someone who’d stayed so far away from him.
“You should smile more.” The tilt of Flor’s head was belligerent. “You should come to your friends’ birthday parties even if some of your other friends are being needlessly protective idiots and I’m being a jerk. They’re your friends too.”
Clematis’s throat locked. Anything he might have said to calm Flor down would be a lie, and tipping his head back, acting needy, wouldn’t work. Because Flor thought he needed this.
At his silence, Flor practically vibrated off the floor with the force of his anger. “You think all of your friends would choose David over you, instead of understanding?”
They had done exactly that. Clematis met his furious gaze. Hyacinth had told him to trouble someone, but Flor was already so upset, and the truth was, Flor would also always pick David.
“I’d never expect anyone to choose,” Clematis answered, but with a faint smile. “People want me around for one reason only, Flor.” He raised his head to give Flor a heavy, aching look. “You already know how easy it is to have me.”
For no longer than a second, Flor’s dark, gleaming eyes were huge. Then he slammed the soda bottle down on the counter. Fizzy bubbles exploded in all directions.
“I told you not to do that with me.” Flor’s wings stirred up a storm as he put a hand to Clematis’s chest and pushed him back a step. He didn’t take his hand away. “They are your friends too,” he pronounced, fierce and immovable. “You could have come. It would have been fine if you behaved yourself.”
Clematis hadn’t expected Flor to want him, but the intensity of Flor’s anger at the idea made him turn his face away. “Behaved myself by not doing this?” he asked, suddenly very aware of just how much Flor did not desire him. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t have. I’ve pissed off Tulip enough as it is.”
“What does that mean?” Flor’s wings did not slow, and he regarded Clematis with twitchy suspicion. “Tulip kept asking if you were okay. He actually seemed worried when he didn’t find you.” Flor narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on?”
Revealing his curse to a stranger had been easy in comparison. But Flor would want to fix it. Or worse, agree that Clematis deserved to have this light shining on him, to be so shattered now that even strange fairies had seen something was wrong with him.
“It was more relaxed without me there, wasn’t it?” Clematis jerked away from Flor without much grace and went to the sink. He wet some paper towels and began to clean up the spilled soda. Flor wasn’t answering. “No one was worrying about who’d slept with me, right? Or nervous about what stupid thing I might say next? So it was good for everyone.” Clematis squeezed the paper towels over the sink and then grabbed the sponge to wipe the counter again. “What about the rest of it? Did you have fun?”
“Clematis.” Flor exhaled. “We aren’t talking about me right now. We’ve already gone into my issues today.”
“So… I went to Los Cerros yesterday, and I ran into this fairy.” Clematis sensed he had Flor’s complete attention, which only made the nervous trembling in his stomach worse. Flor’s attention was not always a gift. Clematis turned on the faucet and held his hand under the stream of warm water. “And he was convinced that talking is good. So… so if you are still hurting, or you need to talk, you should. Not with me, probably. But with someone who understands love and all that.”
“Love and all that?” Flor repeated, almost in awe. Then his voice flattened out. “Love and all that?” He sounded angry now, spiky with some strong emotion. “Clematis, have you… never loved anyone?”
Clematis carefully rinsed out the sponge a few times, then put it by the faucet. “
By that, do you mean ‘been in love with someone who was in love with me’ like David and Tulip? Or do you mean ‘love’ like what families and friends feel? Or did you mean just being in love, even if it’s by yourself?” He dried his hands and noted he needed to buy more paper towels soon. “People talking about love can mean any of those, I’ve found. No one has been in love with me, if that’s what you’re asking. Some people have wanted to be, but they weren’t. No one has loved me either. Not that I’ve noticed or that they said. I think some people are fond of me. My mom. Lis. Stephanie. Possibly you, when you aren’t mad at me. But warm people, shiny people, get love. Maybe because they know how to give it.” Clematis paused to consider that. “I’ve never thought about that before. You know, it’s a shame there aren’t any fairy scientists, because someone should do a study. David would like that.”
“Clematis” was all Flor said. Then, “Clematis, why are you thinking about David? How can you say those things and then think about some hypothetical study David ought to read? As if that matters at all?”
“I’m really not the one to ask about this,” Clematis answered with a shrug. “That’s why I suggested you talk to Virgil. He might know how you should feel about David and Tulip.”
“What the fuck?” Flor breathed. “You’re just going to clean the counter and rinse out the sponge and stand there and tell me that not even your mother—” He stopped, a trembling, furious mass of glitter at the edge of Clematis’s vision. “Not even a hitch in your voice. You don’t think your friends love you.” Flor’s voice, unlike his, was shaky. “You don’t see that Lis worries about you. This would hurt her so much, even I could tell that. How… how do you get this so incredibly wrong? Do you really not know what love looks like?”
Clematis briefly glanced over. “Are you angry with me again? We don’t have to talk about this. If I’ve been different lately, it’s not something that should bother you. It’s not your fault.”
“Hey,” Flor barked, then gentled his tone. “Hey, look at me.”
Flor’s mouth was soft. His eyes were beautiful. “I was mad at you for not answering my texts because I was worried. People worry when they care.” Flor bit his lip before continuing. “You aren’t just my friend because I need a body to take care of. You’re weird and gentle, and it’s kind of, I don’t know, peaceful being around you. I like being around you, obviously, or I wouldn’t be here. That makes us friends. So I got cranky. That’s how I worry.” He screwed up his face, like someone fighting the urge to either scream or cry. “Stephanie worries by texting me to see if I’ve heard from you. Lis asked about you when I went in there yesterday. It’s different on everyone, but it’s there. Fond of you? I don’t want to hear that again. People love you. Asshole.”
