( 🍭 unprompted valentine's! )
Strangely for today's occasion, Cuscuta's approach was rather noticeable and distinct; noncaring of how much noise she made, hurried steps were quick to approach him unlike her normal pace, almost as if the girl was excited. ❝ Break … Happy Saint Bridget's Day, ❞ she greets with an attempted smile. Gingerly, she hands two items to Break, a bag of treats and a flower, notably a purple iris.
Tied with a yellow ribbon, in the plastic bag were obviously hand-made chocolates and cookies with how misshapen and even slightly burned some of them were. ❝ I gotten the idea to try making sweets for the holiday. I made sure to put sugar rather than salt this time, but I'm still not sure if they're any good … It's okay if you don't want to eat them, ❞ is what she comments when pointing them out. As much as she tried to follow her own advice and put her feelings into them, as expected, her chocolates and cookies were probably not as good as store-bought ones. Still, she can only hope Break appreciates the gesture, even if he doesn't eat them. Or that they weren't actually that horrible.
❝ As for the flower, I remember reading about it in a book ... It reminded me of you. I thought you would like it. ❞ Her statement almost made it sound like an afterthought, but for someone who liked flowers as much as her, it was clear the gift beared some significance. Rarely does Cuscuta grow anything but black or white flowers, however this felt like a special occasion; she did choose this specific flower and color for a reason.
After explaining her gifts, Cuscuta goes quiet for a moment. Shifting her weight from one foot to another, she seems almost hesitant now. ❝ Break, ❞ she finally says. ❝ If there's anything else ... specific you want for today, just let me know … I'll do my best to get it for you. ❞
( geez, break, how come you get three things from cuscuta sorry break for the horrible awful chocolates )
HE'S ALREADY SMILING THE SECOND he hears those particular footsteps approaching. it's funny, that you can tell cuscuta is in a very different mood just by the way she walks up to him. break doesn't question the change in his own mood too much, how some of the weight on his chest lifts, how he feels a bit warmer. it's nice. it's very different to feeling panicked when she speaks up, standing right behind him, without him noticing her presence at all beforehand.
it's happened before. plenty of times, in fact. he'd like to think he's learning, or maybe he's just bridging time until he can rely on mad hatter a bit more, to tell him when even the quietest of people are getting closer.
break takes the flower first. he doesn't know too much about what kinds there are, or what they mean, despite it being a big topic in noble circles back home. sharon certainly talked his ear off about it being a trope in one of her romance novels plenty of times. he regrets not listening to her explanations every single time, now. but, still, stroking a few of the petals carefully, he can tell the difference in shape, its fragility. as he listens to cuscuta's explanation, he lets out a soft breath, carefully tucks it behind his right ear alongside a few strands of white hair.
' sugar instead of salt sounds like a good idea, ' he huffs, clearly amused, but with a different note in his voice than anybody would be used to: fondness, clear as day. nibbling at one of the cookies, break's composure dissolves into a short burst of laughter.
oh, they are horribly burnt. crunchy, one could say. there is the subtle hint of a sweet flavour in there, which must be the sugar she mentioned, but it's mostly burnt, tasting slightly of ... is that caramel? that's almost impressive. definitely better than anything he could whip up in a kitchen. it's humbling, to know that she spent time and effort doing something she hasn't done before, hasn't mastered yet. that she's here, delivering it anyways, despite the uncertainty about whether or not he'd like it. she tells him he doesn't have to eat them, she tells him she read about a flower in a book and went out of her way to collect it for him, because she thought he'd like it.
he is reminded, vaguely, of sitting in the gardens of the rainsworths, his left eye still healing, covered by bandages. a small lady sharon approaching, shy, bouquet in hand. having gone out of her way to gather flowers, for him.
' well! miss cuscuta— thank you very much! ' break does not give her any warning whatsoever. scooping cuscuta up under her arms, break lifts her into his arms and twirls, in a few circles, holding onto her tightly, making sure she won't fall. when she's set back on the ground, break's grin is as wide as it can get, a delighted chuckle on his tongue, patting her head a few times.
' i have something for you, as well. ' he rummages once more, but is fairly quick about it this time, excitement evident. before he can think about why, he's already knelt down in front of her, paper in hand.
' one card, for the sweet lady. ' it's another simple design, a pastel blue card with two figures drawn on top, easily recognizable despite his lack of artistic talent, since he kept it to very simple shapes: a blue doll, looking an awful lot like emily, next to a black bunny with golden eyes. in zhilan's handwriting, it says, happy valentine's, miss, underneath the figures, with a small heart at the very end.
break doesn't wait for her to react. in fact, he's used this moment of her looking at it to grab the second present, safely tucked away under his coat. ' and one hat! i knitted it myself, i hope it fits. ' he's tempted, immediately, to put it on her, but instead merely holds it up by the ... are those ears? oh, they certainly are. after receiving cuscuta's drawing, this is either a very smart move, or a very good joke. or maybe it'll be both. here's hoping.
' i made sure to include your ... ears? so you can keep them warm, in cold weather like this. can't have you getting sick. who will i spend my time with? ' it's the chunky yarn he'd bought a while ago, but in mustard yellow, this time around, expertly crafted. peeking above the hat, break squints lovingly at cuscuta. ' and as for things i'd like to do ... how about we take a walk? collect some flowers together? i can't be the only one who has one, i'd feel bad. '
and he doesn't. he doesn't feel bad. he feels good, and happy, if a bit nostalgic. but with things to do, who has time to dwell on that?