Things To Find.
Warnings:SAAAAAAAAP, TONS OF SAAAAAAAAAAAAP!!!!!!!
Summary: Gojyo finds something. Hakkai explains. Sort of.
A/N : Another "Hey, Hakkai" fic. Not overly original, this thematic has already been written about. Credit goes to Ezra's Persian Kitty and her LOTR fic "The Art of Miscommunication" for the idea and the meanings. Most humble thanks and worshipping to Books for the beta-work.
Mornings were not Gojyo's favourite time of the day. The world just didn't made sense before breakfast. Usually, neither did it afterwards, but at least with some coffee in his stomach and some smoke in his lungs he felt more ready to face it.
"Hey, Hakkai," he mumbled as he entered the kitchen, scratching the top of his head with his free hand. It wasn't a confused gesture. It itched.
"Yes, Gojyo?" The man replied pleasantly as he laid the table for breakfast.
"What the fuck is this?" Gojyo asked.
"It's a red tulip, I believe."
Trust Hakkai to deliver a totally accurate, totally useless answer. Gojyo stared at the tulip, then at Hakkai. He insisted.
"Well, yeah, it's a flower and has a name, I can see that." The redhead didn't seem much impressed. "But what does it mean?"
Always busy with his self-imposed morning duties, Hakkai replied without missing a beat.
"Its meaning is traditionally related, in a symbolic way, to declarations of love."
"No, I mean, what does it mean that it was lying on my pil…" Gojyo's slow brain finally caught up. If Hakkai wouldn't miss a beat, Gojyo could miss beats enough for both of them. And for a couple of by-passers, too. "Wait, did you say…?"
Attentive, polite son of a bitch.
"I mean, do you mean…?"
They stared at each other in silence. Finally, the redhead had to say something.
He had always been so eloquent. Hakkai simply smiled. Out of nervousness, out of politeness, out of fucking routine, Gojyo could only guess.
"Err…" started the half-breed.
"I didn't expect a reply, Gojyo."
The redhead shifted and tried to decide if it was a better course of action to look at his roommate or not. He had always had problems telling what was the best thing to do.
"Uhm… ok… but…"
"Just think about it, will you?"
Not knowing what to do with his hands, the half-breed shoved them in his pockets.
"…Ok. I'll go out for a moment, yeah?"
"Alright." Hakkai, the comprehensive roommate everyone would wish to have. "Good-bye, Gojyo."
Sixteen hours wasn't even near to his personal record at staying in a bar. It was far more remarkable that this shitty town had at least one local pub that remained open that long. Gojyo wasn't smashed, though. He had only been drinking beers to keep his mind pleasantly buzzy but still in working condition. He had tried thinking, but with no satisfactory results so far. He thought he needed help, but Hakkai wasn't exactly available for this topic, and he didn't know whom else to trust. He surveyed the bar, but it was late and there weren't so many clients. He considered opening his heart to the bartender, but he supposed the bartender had to be fed up with drunken problems.
A girl. Girls were sensitive and stuff. He surveyed again and found what he was looking for. Dragging his ass from the stool wasn't as painful as he thought it would be after so much time sitting. Too troubled to try and flirt, he opted for the direct approach:
"Ehm… do flowers mean shit or something?"
Hakkai had an accurate internal alarm clock. He tended to wake up at exactly the same time everyday without the help of mechanical or electronic gadgets. Sometimes, he hated that ability. It was early morning but way past dawn. He wished to be able to close his eyes and keep on sleeping. He didn't want to face another day. Not if Gojyo hadn't come back. Neither if Gojyo had. He was a master in the complex art of screwing his own life up. He didn't curse very often, especially outwardly, but to be honest: fuck.
He sighed and made up his mind. He had to get up and immerse himself in the routine. He had survived far worse situations. He had done what he had to. No regrets this time.
Hakkai turned to his side and froze. There, upon the pillow, lay a perfect, thornless, red rose. It was still damp with dew. It was beautiful.
Slowly, nearly fearfully, he sat up and looked down. Gojyo was there, artlessly sprawled on the covers of his futon, drunkenly drooling on his pillow.
Hakkai closed his eyes and didn't smile. He beamed.
Afterwords: a thornless red rose is supposed to mean "love at first sight". Being the skeptical bitch that I am, I don't believe in such a thing, but who knows, maybe Gojyo does.