*gives him back the flower he crushed all those years ago*
𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑺 𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑴. sight upon flower and you see only his regret, what must be guilt to eat away at chest cavity. it was his to hold, his to loathe, his to crush. does it not take after its lord in its reaching for the light? [ . . . ] as was its master, ever willing to wilt if only to gaze upon the moon.
but he holds it out to you as if freely given, hidden to the taste of self-blame and anguish you imagine to flower on his tongue━━━━ HE HOLDS IT OUT and you think, 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙪𝙥𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚, 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩, 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙝 𝙞𝙩. you would shower him with flowers until he could no longer bear it, until he set them all aflame with the force of his disdain. still, you smile and accept it, stem spun between two fingers .
❝ this would look far more radiant in your highness' hair, don't you think ? ❞ with gentle hands unburdened, you tuck it sweetly behind his ear. ❝ there. perfect. ❞