“This has been here all this time?”
Quentin nodded. “It’s called the Drowned Garden.”
Eliot knelt in front of the tangle of flowers, a fresh bloom bursting and opening its scarlet petals before his eyes. “You said they’re emotions?”
“They’re reacting to yours. And mine.” Quentin knelt next to Eliot, ran a soft petal between his fingers. “A new emotion, a new flower. They’re springing up and dying all the time.”
Eliot turned to Quentin with a smile. “You know what this reminds me of?”
“I have an idea, but I think I’d rather you tell me.”
“Our garden at the mosaic.” Eliot paused, studying Quentin’s face. “Is that what you thought I was going to say?”
“It’s what I was hoping for.”
They turned their eyes back to the flowers, the scarlet bloom giving way to something new. A thick green stem dripping with tight buds, the buds opening and bursting with color, red and yellow and blue.
“Is this one yours or mine?” Quentin asked, watching as the flowers doubled in size, their perfume sweet and thick.
“I don’t know. Tell me what you’re feeling. Maybe we can figure it out.”
Quentin kept his eyes on the flowers, could feel Eliot’s eyes watching him. “I’m so happy you’re alive, El.” The flowers opened wider, their colors seeming to pulse. “I missed you so fucking much.”
“Q.” Eliot gripped Quentin’s shoulder. “Hey. Look at me.”
Quentin blinked away the dampness in his eyes, turned to Eliot with a smile. “Hey,” he said softly.
“Hey.” Eliot moved his hand to Quentin’s neck, and from the corner of his eye Quentin saw new flowers spring to life. “I’m in love with you. I just wanted to let you know.”
“Oh.” The flowers reached for them, a tangle of vines, colorful petals skirting along the curve of Quentin’s knee. “I…”
“You don’t have to say it back. I understand if you don’t feel it anymore. I know I broke your heart. I’m so sorry, Q. I’ll be sorry for the rest of my life.”
Quentin watched as violet blossoms traced a line up Eliot’s body. “I know what that one’s for,” he said, watching the vine curve along the slope of Eliot’s shoulder. “I can name that one exactly.”
“Tell me,” Eliot whispered, taking Quentin’s face into his hands.
“That one knows that I’m in love with you, too. That I haven’t stopped loving you even for a second.” Quentin laughed as a petal tickled the side of his neck, his heart so full he was certain it would burst. “I think that you should probably kiss me now.”
When their lips met the ground beneath them trembled and groaned, a thousand brand new flowers bursting from the garden, twisting loosely around their ankles and their wrists. Eliot laughed into Quentin’s mouth and broke the kiss, knocking their foreheads together. “We should probably go before this garden eats us.”
Quentin’s body quaked with silent laughter, a vine slipping up under the back of his shirt. “I think that’s a good idea,” he said, pressing a kiss to Eliot’s forehead before pulling away.
