Even though the walls were at odd angles with each other,shelves had been suspended expertly so that books would never fall. I ran my hands over the spines of the books, shocked that they were in good condition despite being unused for who knows how long.
And how longhadit been since someone had cozied up here to read? Such thought and care were sewn into every bit of this place. The decision to leave here could not have been taken lightly.
Hesper slapped a hand on the armchair, a cloud of dust pluming into the air.
“Can you not do that?” I coughed.
“We have to clean it, now or later.” She turned toward me, dust coating her face.
I let out a hearty laugh, and Hesper just scowled.
“Why don’t you go save the town or something?” She set back to slapping the dust off the armchair, more clouds of filth rising into the air. What an imbecile. The dust had nowhere to go except for the floor and the books.
“That’s the plan,” I retorted. “Should be simple to grow a garden without magic, good soil, or seeds.”
“One of those things you do have,” Hesper said with exasperation.
“Is that so?” I met her exasperation with my own, placing both hands on my hips.
“Where do you think the flower under your boot came from?” Hesper asked, matching both my stance and my already quirking eyebrow.
“Angus said it was Dwindle’s flower. It was therebeforeI set my boot down,” I chided.
“Of course, of course,” she said sarcastically. “Becausetheir growing conditions are perfect, aren’t they? Oh, and the underwater flowers at Marielle’s?”
“I thought that was some type of underwater phenomenon!”
“And what about the dandelions growing on Irk?” she pressed.
“They are a common flower and can grow in most conditions.”
“Oh my Goddess.” She looked toward the ceiling. “You don’t think they grew because you let yourself go, you let yourself feel, you let yourself become undone?”
My mouth went dry.
“Is that what last night was?” My heart went cold. “An experiment?”
“Let’s just say it was two birds with one stone,” she said casually and set back to dusting.
I scoffed.
“If I had magic, Hesper, I wouldn’t be here. I have tried; I have reached. It is not there. I will admit to you that the recurrence of buttercups and other flowers along the way could seem like something, but I promise you, there’s nothing.” I pointed to my chest, ever hollow save for the stolen moments with her.
“You’re impossible.” She shook her head.
“I’ve been called worse.” I muscled past her, unlatching the half-moon window and letting some fresh air in. Hesper then took up a rug and began to beat it against the beamsinsideof the house. Grime went everywhere.
“If you’re going to clean, at least do it correctly!” I tutted.
“If you’re going to fuss at me, then you can just leave,” she said through gritted teeth.
I narrowed my eyes at her, and she did the same. But there was too much work to do right now; we could brawl later.
“Oh, and before I forget—” Hesper walked right up to me, dust and sweat outlining that scar above her mouth. Damn her for being tantalizing while covered in grime. “Here,” she said, gently tucking something behind my ear. It felt soft yet sturdy. I reached up to touch it, but she stopped me, cradling my hand in hers. “The petals look too delicate to touch.”
“The petals?” I asked, confused.
“Yes, from the plant box downstairs,” she replied.
