Bouquets of Flowers
Daine x Numair one-shot
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Setting: Between Emperor Mage, and The Realms of the Gods, winter.
Another day, another bouquet. It had become Daine's motto over winter. Daine stood on the tips of her toes, reaching for a pin keeping a bouquet of flowers in place on the door leading to her rooms. She unlatched it and fell back on her heels. Daine looked around to see if the person who had left them was around. Seeing nothing, she let out a sad sigh, and took the flowers into the privacy of her room.
She didn't want to smell them, she knew that was vain, and childish, shallow even, but only after two seconds of trying to hide them from her vision did she bring them to her nose. She took a whiff; a smile pricking at her lips. Even if the bouquets were anonymous, they still made her happy.
Today the flowers were roses, in an arrangement of colors, each trying to outshine the beauty of the others. Daine placed them on her nightstand table, beside her other bouquets. The bouquets had been coming all winter, more rapidly within the past couple of weeks. Daine had been trying to catch the person doing the deed, but every day, when she woke up early to catch the person in the act, a new bouquet awaited, just as today.
Daine looked at the different bouquets wondering who they might be from. Perin? She dismissed the idea immediately, but then who else? Daine let out a yawn, and looked outside her window to see that the sun had not risen yet. She lay back down on her bed, when she heard an angry chirp. Daine, too tired now to open her eyes, said sleepily, "Go back to sleep Kit, it's not even dawn yet," there was another agitated chirp, "Kit, go to sleep…" Daine's voice faded to the calm sound of her breathing, as sleep washed over her.
A light near the bed shimmered, and a figure materialized out of seemingly thin air. Numair Salamín bent over and touched Kit's nose, letting out coos and whispers to calm her down. She seemed disgruntled still at the fact that Numair had used invisibility, but after an attempt to clamp down on Numair's arm, Kit turned away and began to sleep once again.
Numair took a seat toward the edge of Daine's bed. She began to stir, and Numair was just about to use his gift to become invisible once again when she sighed and rolled over, seeming to make herself more comfortable. Numair relaxed and let out a sigh of relief.
He looked to Daine's nightstand, five bouquets sat on it, the top one from this morning and the one's toward the bottom beginning to wilt. Numair reached out and stroked a pedal, slowly, carefully. He then turned to see Daine lying peacefully on her bed. He smiled at Daine who was so beautiful, and so lovely, that he wished he could call her his.
He reached over to Daine, much like he reached over to the flower pedals, and was inches from letting the back of his hand touch her face. But, when he could feel her body heat against his cold fingers, he withdrew. It wasn't right, he and Daine could never be. He was far too old.
Numair stood, realizing that what he was doing was wrong.
He had placed the first bouquet toward the beginning of midwinter, a harmless gift. But he wrongly watched as she received it. Her smile was so innocent, so cheerful in a way that Numair had never seen her, that he couldn't resist, and one week later, he placed another bouquet on her door.
He had watched as she found that bouquet as well, and her look of joy had pulled him in. He found himself placing bouquets at her door just to see the happiness on her face.
Then one day, he found himself sneaking into her room as she took the bouquets from the door. And soon enough, he found himself placing the bouquets higher each time, to buy time for him to come in. And today he stood inches from Daine's bed, watching her sleep.
Daine rolled over again, and Numair realized she might wake. He walked swiftly to the door, and used his gift to open it, all the while muffling the click it might make when it opened. Numair snuck out the door, and shut it quietly.
He placed his back against the cold stone wall beside Daine's door. He leaned his head back, and shut his eyes. He couldn't keep doing this, he couldn't keep barging in on Daine anymore, it wasn't right; Daine could never be with him.
Three days later, despite everything, Numair found himself with a pin and another bouquet of flowers. He lifted a hand, and began to attach them to Daine's door.
I was in a restaurant today, and saw so many flowers, I was inspired :D
Besides, i've always wanted to write a story with flowers :)