by R. Cooper
“Oh, I like you,” Lis declared. “You’ll do.”
“Because I’m shiny?” Sasha wondered aloud. “You’re a fairy too, aren’t you? I can hear more wings. And Clematis said fairies like shiny people.”
“Because you live up to your shine,” Lis corrected him. “Like your mopey friend here.” She reached out and made a ghost of a motion to cup Clematis’s face. She wiggled her fingers in the air around him, then pulled her hand away in order to take his cup. She sniffed, then peered into it. “No coffee? Hmm.”
“I am not shiny.” Clematis took his drink back. “Mopey?” he demanded, a little too slowly. “Rude, Lis. I’m not… this is not moping.”
“Hmm,” Lis commented again. “I’m going to have to cut you off soon. You’re getting slurred.”
“But getting shitfaced—uh, drunk—is traditional,” Sasha interrupted. “You know, when your heart is broken.”
Clematis glanced at him, then up at Lis, before avoiding her eyes.
Lis released a soft breath. She took Clematis’s drink away from him and then the bag of chocolate chips, and put both of her hands gently on top of his. “So you’ve admitted it, then?” Clematis closed his mouth tight. Lis’s voice ached with sadness. “Clematis. You can’t deny it anymore.” Clematis finally looked up and Lis took hold of him more tightly. “Flor de Maga broke your heart long before you ever introduced him to me, didn’t he?”
Clematis tried to yank his hands away, but Lis did not let go.
Sasha made a small, startled noise.
Lis leaned in and spoke gently. “You think I can’t read pining, even in fairy glitter? You think I haven’t seen a fairy with a broken heart before? I can look in a mirror. That boy destroyed you years ago, and he has no idea, which is the only reason I allowed him here. That, and whatever he might have done before, you still adore him.”
Clematis stared at the trembling hands trapped in hers and then slowly lifted his gaze to her face.
Lis looked at him with pity and then a wobble in her bottom lip. “Oh, look at you!” she exclaimed and released him just to come around the counter to fold him in a hug.
“What’s happening?” Sasha reached out and put a hand on Clematis’s shoulder.
“I’m hugging this precious fool,” Lis informed him with her cheek to Clematis’s hair. “He honestly thought I didn’t know.”
“I hoped you didn’t.” Clematis spoke quietly. “But I can’t seem to hide anything anymore.”
“You could never have hidden this, not for very long.” Lis squeezed him tighter. She had strong arms. Clematis held onto them without meaning to. “If you got away with it, it was for some other reason. Maybe because I never saw you together until recently, or—”
“Because Flor didn’t like me very much before.” It did not get easier, but at least Clematis could say it without his voice breaking. “I have always liked him. He makes me happy.”
“Oh.” Lis inched back to study him. “I didn’t realize it was that serious. But I suppose I should have. Did you know him the moment you saw him?”
“Yes.” Clematis tightened his mouth. “No. I didn’t know, right away, what it was. He was the brightest thing and I wanted to get closer, and then to make him happy. But nothing came out right. Nothing came out at all, at first, and he looked me over and forgot me, because there was nothing. He had eyes for someone else, someone shiny, and I was… a silly, stupid fairy. Then we met again, and I could… I could be something to others, at least, and that made him so angry. I never understood, but he would argue with me and—” Angry often meant worried, with Flor. “He was worried about me,” he realized out loud. “I didn’t mean to do that. I only wanted to be near him. No wonder he was so mad for so long.”
“Um,” Sasha said, confused.
Dixie Daisy came over to replace his drink with a new, fresh one. “Poor kid,” they said, although they appeared younger than Sasha.
“It’s slightly bothersome to agree with Flor at a moment like this when my instinct is to blame him for hurting you, but as someone who has also been worried about you for a while, I do wonder why you never just talked to him in the first place. He’s been one of your friends, if a distant one, for a long time.” Lis petted Clematis’s hair and absently tucked it behind his ears. It felt nice, so he closed his eyes. “Even if you never told him he was your happiness, you could have talked with him. What changed?”
“Tulip,” Clematis said shortly.
“And David, right?” Sasha contributed. “Tulip and David are together. Flor was alone and needed a friend. Clematis volunteered even though every other word out of his mouth is about Flor and how great Flor is—I’ve had a lot of sugar. I should be quiet.”
Clematis cringed. “Do you think Flor noticed?”
Lis snorted, shocking him. “Dollface, you dragged the boy into my bathroom and half the place could hear him beg for you.” She resumed petting him. “He put flowers in your hair and made damn sure you knew what they meant. I think it’s safe to say he’s noticed, and he doesn’t mind.” She hummed, then pulled Clematis closer against her to rub his back. “I think it’s even safe to say, no matter what has you upset today, that Flor de Maga sparkles bright around you. Don’t forget that, okay?”
“Agreed.” Sasha hummed. “Not that I know about sparkles. But I told you, he acts like a boyfriend.”
“I knew I liked you, Sasha,” Lis told him. “Dixie, get him whatever he’d like.”
“With pleasure,” Dixie purred.
Clematis imagined Sasha’s blush and almost, almost smiled. He burrowed in closer to Lis instead, while he could, and let her keep stroking his hair for as long as she wanted.
Chapter 15
“MISSED YOU” was the first thing Flor said when he came up to Clematis by the bus stop for the express to Los Cerros. Clematis turned in time to see the uncertain smile on Flor’s face, and then Flor was warm around him and breathing out puffs of air against his neck. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there last night. I was thinking and not in a good mood.”
He had on skinny jeans and a hot pink bomber jacket, because mornings were colder now, and Los Cerros would probably still have fog. Flor must have cut holes in the back and sewn the edges himself. Clematis was in a gray, unzipped sweatshirt, his wings tucked beneath it.
He had a messenger bag over one shoulder, and so did Flor. But Flor also had an iced coffee in a to-go cup in one hand, which he handed over at Clematis’s perplexed look, before reaching into his bag to pull out a paper sack full of donut holes and then a posy of small flowers.
The flowers were lavender in color and tied with a string. “Asters,” Flor explained when Clematis didn’t speak. Flor glanced around at the others waiting for the bus, then toyed with the string almost nervously before focusing on Clematis again. “Eat.” Flor shoved the bag in his direction, looking almost offended at Clematis’s surprise at being offered breakfast.
“So,” Flor went on once he was satisfied that Clematis was enjoying the food. He took a donut hole for himself and muttered an apology for talking while eating. “Asters. They come in all kinds of colors and have all kinds of meanings depending on where you are, but they are always positive. Mostly they represent love and patience.”
Flor’s hair was damp as if he’d taken a shower shortly before running out the door to get here. He had powdered sugar on his chest.
“You could have come over,” Clematis said instead of any of the hot, happy thoughts bubbling up inside of him. “Last night. Just to sit and do nothing if you wanted. You don’t have to be in a good mood to see me. I am not even sure what a Flor who isn’t ranting about some injustice would look like.”
“Are you teasing me?” Flor demanded, not even close to outraged, judging from his sudden beaming smile.
The people at the bus stop began to stand up as if the bus was near. One of them raised his eyebrows at Clematis, but two teen girls made squealing noises. Hyacinth had complained about that. Clematis understood
now.
“Am I not supposed to tease you?” Clematis asked, with a sip of vanilla-caramel coffee.
“I don’t know,” Flor said, mock grumpily. “I bring you coffee and donuts and flowers, and that’s my reward?”
Clematis stared at him, briefly considering whether Flor had changed his mind about the trip and wanted to have sex instead, but then remembered—this was Flor. He angled his chin up and offered Flor his cheek, then waited, haughty and aloof and absolutely not trembling with nerves.
Flor whispered an excited “Yes!” before darting up to place a kiss there. Clematis could give him more than that, and Flor seemed to know it. He gave Clematis a heavy look as the bus pulled up along the curb and opened its doors. “That’s good for now, sweetheart.” Flor was quiet, speaking only for him. “But may I?” He held up the posy.
Clematis thought of what Lis had said, and a minute later, boarded the bus with a burst of asters behind his ear and Flor close behind him, hanging on to his hand.
He had thought Flor wanted company for a short work trip, but once they’d settled into their seats and finished the donut holes, Flor put his head on Clematis’s shoulder and sighed.
“I’m really glad you came. I was a little worried you wouldn’t.” Flor looked out at the passing scenery. “I didn’t, uh, bully you into coming or anything, did I? You said you like when I’m bossy, but apparently—” He made a noise. “—I can be a lot. Overwhelming. But I don’t want you to just go along. You have to want it too, and I thought so? But I wasn’t sure, so I am asking.”
The elderly elf in front of them turned around, raised his eyebrows, then faced forward again and shook his head.
Clematis swept his thumb through the condensation on the outside of the coffee cup. “You are overwhelming.” He was so close to the whole truth that his heart started racing. “You always have been, and that hasn’t changed.” Flor raised his head to frown. Clematis realized his palm was sweaty, that he was gripping Flor’s hand too tightly, although Flor didn’t comment. “I like it,” he added. “You’re a force. But I’m here because I want to be.”
Flor twitched a little, not exactly losing his frown. “Even though you don’t seem all that happy to visit Los Cerros?”
“You asked me where I wanted to go, and you accepted my answer.” Clematis studied Flor more intently. “You listened to me. You always do. I think… I think you did even back when you loathed me. I just never said anything.”
The elderly elf blew out a breath.
Flor absently flipped him off. His voice was tight, strained, before he swallowed. “You’re really good to me.”
Clematis ducked his head, and Flor laughed softly and leaned on his shoulder again. He kicked his feet, not incidentally kicking the seat in front of them for a moment. “Tell me you brought your cassette player. We could use some music.”
He laughed harder when Clematis pulled it from his bag.
It turned out headphones made in the 1980s were not designed for easy sharing, but Clematis held one speaker to his ear, and Flor leaned in close to listen to the other, and for several miles they listened to Whitney Houston, to the annoyance of the nosy, disapproving elf in front of them.
THE MAGIC shop Flor had been sent to was not one Clematis had ever gone into. It wasn’t far from the fairy village, but he had never wanted to risk damaging something he couldn’t pay for. Witches could be sticklers about prices and equivalent exchanges, almost as bad as fairies were supposed to be.
Clematis stayed very still in his spot by the entrance and stared up over the front counter, at the owl staring back at him. It was daytime. He thought the owl would have been sleeping, but apparently not.
Flor had been directed toward the back end of the shop, where there was a garden. But Clematis had stayed here rather than see a collection of carnivorous plants. Flor didn’t seem to mind them, but that was Flor all over. Some fairies were tough like that.
“Those are very pretty asters,” the human behind the register said. The human—an older witch, it was impossible to tell how old—smiled at him. “Asters are named after stars, you know, and the goddess Astraea, the star maiden. She wept, and her beautiful tears became the flowers.”
“Like fairy tears.” Clematis hunched his shoulders to disappear deeper into his sweatshirt. “Do you sell asters here?”
She rolled her eyes, but in a way that seemed friendly, or at least not aimed at him. “Our flowers tend to be of a different variety. But we do have dandelions. You never know when you’ll need some, and they aren’t always in season.”
“Dandelion seeds are called fairies by humans. I never understood why, except that they float.” Clematis didn’t know what dandelions meant, but he remembered seeing David and Tulip with them.
“They drift on the wind, aimless, until they alight on some fortunate individual.” The witch rolled her eyes again. This time it felt meaner. “It tells you what they think of fairies.”
“I suppose so.” Clematis looked up. The owl had closed his eyes and was pretending to sleep. “What do dandelions mean otherwise?”
If the witch was surprised he didn’t know, as she kept it from her face. “Happiness.”
“Humans call them weeds.” Clematis paused. “I mean, not-magical humans.”
“Humans are often stupid, with or without magic.” The witch sighed. “But isn’t everyone?”
“Clematis!” Flor called from the back of the shop. “I didn’t mean to stay so long, but you should see the garden! It’s incredible!” Flor swept forward, stuffing a burlap sack into his bag as he went. Behind him, a softly radiant human with a red mark on half his face and light, pretty eyes observed them. He projected quiet and stillness but didn’t seem to mind Flor brightly sparkling up the shop. “I know you’re worried about the carnivorous plants, but the other ones…. I wish I had a yard. I’d plant wisteria just to see you beneath it. Oh—what am I talking about when purple passion flowers exist?”
Flor grinned as he got closer. He had a single dandelion in his hair. He’d probably put it there himself, but Clematis glanced back to the rather serious young human behind him anyway.
“Happiness,” Clematis whispered, raising his hand to gesture to the flower without actually touching it.
“Who told you?” Flor demanded with a gasp, but then smiled and darted up to kiss Clematis’s cheek again. “Getting magic lessons, huh? That’s all I need, a Clematis who is even more charming.”
Clematis put his hands on his warm face and narrowed his eyes at Flor. “You’re making puns now?”
“Try and stop me.” Flor pointed to the flower stuck in his hair before taking Clematis’s hand. “Did you learn anything else while I was back there, working hard?”
“You were drooling over flowers, and you know it.” Clematis sniffed, because Flor liked it when he was a bit bratty. “You could have been here drooling over me.”
Flor laughed and waved to the witch at the counter as he led Clematis out the door. “Next time you have to come with me to see it. So much purple and green and white! That’s without the roses, of course, and the poison garden. The colors!” He swung their locked hands in excitement as they walked, either not noticing or not minding how Clematis couldn’t look away from him.
FLOR WAS a force, exactly as Clematis had said. As promised, he did not wander around Los Cerros or mention even wanting to. He talked—gushed—about the magical gardens behind Bubble, Bubble for a large part of their walk toward the nicer part of town, but it wasn’t boring, even if Clematis didn’t know most of the plants he mentioned.
Flor was enthusiastic when he loved something, and he loved gardens and the life in them wholeheartedly. Even plants that ate bugs—or small frogs or mice—did not deter him. And when he was going on about blossoms and pollination, he wasn’t furious over how some humans treated beings—and other humans—or frowning about whatever David had told him.
If the world were a better place and didn’t need Flor to fight f
or people, Clematis imagined Flor would be in a garden all the time. Clematis could not imagine where he would be, but he hoped someplace peaceful as well, near a garden, if not in one.
If the world were a better place, Clematis couldn’t even think of what he would be. But he didn’t dream of things like that.
Right now, Flor kept smiling at him from the other side of Zucchero’s display and tasting room. And though it made Clematis’s heart beat fast, it was peaceful in a way Clematis didn’t understand.
He knew it couldn’t last, knew Flor was determined to do this with him and wanted to make it good, knew Flor was, in this moment, happy. But things like this did not last. Clematis didn’t think things like this even happened, except to the Davids and the Tulips of the world. Hyacinth had probably felt this way up on the bluffs with Walter a few decades ago.
Clematis smiled for that, and because the flutter his smile sent through Flor’s wings was a thrill all its own.
He turned away, because he was supposed to be picking out something for lunch. Flor’s boss was paying, for part of it at least. Zucchero’s prices could be high, but Flor had told him to choose whatever he wanted.
Clematis had money of his own and had already purchased some things for later. The woman behind the counter, with lovely streaks of silvery gray in her hair and shimmering lip gloss, shared a smile with him before turning back to cleaning fingerprints off one of the glass display cabinets.
She had the contented glow of a kind person in love. Clematis liked her with one glance, even before he found out she knew Flor by name and hugged him when he walked in. He grasped his paper bag of treats tightly and moved on from the rows and rows of chocolates to the jellies and gummies and hard candies, all made by hand by some sort of genius.
