Tea Party!
((Placing under a read more just to save space on the dash <3))
"…awfully quiet with the others gone, isn't it, professor?" in her arms, dorothea cradles an open-top basket. if laslow were to peer into it, he'd find that it houses an exquisite tea set — one she's gone out of her way to ensure matches his fair head of rose-colored hair. "i know we're not professor nel," she says with a teasing laugh and a knowing glint in her eyes, "but i thought we could spend the day with you. you do so much for us, after all." she gives a slight nod toward the companions who flank her side. "so, it only feels right that we keep you company on your birthday—if you'll have us." ~ @encantresse
"…My! Quite the popular fellow today, aren't we?" Nanna can barely hide her pearling teeth behind a polite hand. Laughter shakes her last notes lightly. It has been quite a while since she has thrown a surprise-anything, but there was something charming in how Dorothea had them floating in on gilded wings. Laslow in particular has always felt like a mutual in shared secrets, so how lovely it was to open up with another surprise of her own. "…Happy birthday, Laslow!" "…I know we often convene during Ethereal, but Dorothea thought it a lovely idea to gather today!" Ta-da! A picnic basket full of tea sandwiches and a folded cloth with delicate hand-embroidery sit like nested doves in her arms. "Shall I set up? You won't mind the attention will you…?" A teasing glint remains in her eyes, dancing as one does on a day like this. ~ @hosannan
if anything he cannot mind it because there is one person here who will claw through life tooth and nail to keep it off of herself. bernadetta will never forget what laslow has done for her even if he might have. to him it may have been checking on a strange new student who inevitably fled, but to her it had been one of the very first kindnesses she had received at the monastery, and bernadetta only remembers him affording her many more of those since. maybe someday she will revisit the topic, but not on this one to celebrate him. on the heels of dorothea and nanna, the contrast of her hooded, hunched figure finally scuttles in. the bouquet cradled in her arms is one she looks like she's staked her life on guarding the entire way here. no stray gusts, no clumsy bumps, only its lush, peachy-pink blooms in full splendor. her eye contact lasts a split second. a little jump, a quick handoff of the flowers to him, and a squeak— “ha-happy birthday! thank you for always being nice to me. i have to go now. wait, that's no good?! we're all having tea? ah! fine! i'll just put these in a nice, tall vase and sit behind them...” happy birthday, laslow! ♡ ~ @hermidetta
Strolling merrily along the cobblestone pathway to the greenhouse, Laslow hums softly to himself, a melody he half-remembers from the latest musical performance currently playing in town.
Two--no, three he notes, spotting a hunched figure a few feet behind the others--welcome faces give him pause. Grinning brightly, he waves and lets his song trail off.
"Well, hel-lo, ladies! Indeed it is, though company as fine as yours makes it bearable." Something clinks within Dorothea's basket; unable to keep his curiosity at bay, Laslow rises onto his tiptoes, neck craned for a peek. He catches a glimpse of pale pink, the curve of a delicate gold handle, a shape he assumes is a bird.
Further inspection is halted at Dorothea's next statement. Flushing, Laslow drops back onto his heels, coughing into his shoulder. "Ah...please don't think me disappointed! Seeing you is always a pleasure!" A pause as the rest of her words register. "With moi? But of course I'd love to have a tea party with you!"
Truly, he feels like the most important man on Academy grounds right now. His heart is so full it could burst. "Nanna, my darling! I still owe you a dance, don't I?" He suddenly finds the embroidered handkerchief incredibly interesting. "Just don't stare at me too much, deal?"
Laslow takes a step closer, intending to offer his help, when the shadow hiding behind Nanna finds her courage. With the flowers obscuring her face, she looks like a bouquet grew a pair of legs. He bites back the laugh bubbling in his throat at the image.
Gently, he accepts the flowers, burying his face in the petals and inhaling deeply. "Oh, these are lovely," he murmurs, voice muffled. A stray petal clings to his cheek once he raises his head. "Bernadetta, what a delight to see you again! Tell you what--why don't we find a nice tree to sit under? The leaves will offer us plenty of shade to hide in when these two--" here he tilts his head at Nanna and Dorothea with a conspiratorial smile--"start calling for our attention."
Time seems to slow as he takes in the scene, like it always does when he wants to remember a specific moment, so that no matter where he goes, he'll carry it in his heart forever. Pressure builds unexpectedly behind his eyes. He can't cry on his birthday! Blinking, he works on removing four flowers from the bouquet.
The first, he places behind his ear, then does the same to Dorothea and Nanna in turn. "So we all match!" Turning to Bernadetta, he holds out a bloom. "May I?"
And once they've unpacked everything and settled among the grass, he meets their eyes, just long enough to show his sincerity before the nerves overtake him. "Thank you, ladies, from the bottom of my heart. Days like this are meant for spending time with loved ones. I hope we're always surrounded by those we hold dear."
