A Wayhaven drabble I wrote for @kurczakmarty because she drew me my favourite drawing of my character Minerva thus far :) Under the keep reading!
The things he would do for her.
Mason followed Amelie like a damn puppy. First it was that stupid wedding. Some friend of a friend which for some reason was enough to invite her, and then by extension, him. He still didn’t get why she couldn’t have just invited that bobble headed woman, fuck, Tina, was her name? Who cares. But no, she wanted him to come with her.
So there he was. Surrounded by humans. Loud music playing all around him, pounding into his skull. So many voices that he could barely concentrate, let alone engage. Two hours of agony.
At least she looked hot in her outfit. And then she apologized quite nicely, he had to admit.
But that wasn’t the end of it. She hadn’t been able to book a flight home right after the wedding, so we were stuck here for another full day. He almost growled when he saw that look in her eyes, and then said the dreaded, “I have an idea what we could do.”
Then a long drive. That part wasn’t the worst-- he could at least wear the headphones that helped block out gunfire that she had gifted him, and watch the world pass him by. It was almost peaceful. That is, of course, until the destination came in sight.
It was of little wonder why she wanted to go. It was a botanical garden, chock full of plants and shit. Something that interested Mason not even a little. But it was kind of nice to watch her do her little thing when she got excited about it.
She pulled up and parked beside a few cars. It at least didn’t look too busy. The garden was laid out a lot like a golf course, size wise. It was decorated with stone paths that lead to sections of different flowers and trees. Then, at the end, a tall glass building.
A glass building. What kind of stupid human thought of such a thing.
Amelie immediately took out her 30th notebook that she wrote her observations in, and drawings. Sometimes, when she was asleep, he would flip through those notebooks out of sheer boredom. So when she started naming and pointing at different flowers along the way, some of them he already recognized. It was something his brain refused to think about any further than that.
The area as they went on became more shaded from a canopy of trees, in which he sighed in relief to get out of that sun for a moment. Birds chattered annoyingly as they made their way through the makeshift forest. He pulled up his hood to help muffle the noise. It truly did not help. Cursing at himself, he wished he had brought those headphones with him.
Still though, he bit back on any complaints. Amelie was enthralled by the fungus growing on an old oak tree, sketching it quickly and making notes on how cute she thought it was. He scoffed, but it was lighthearted. He shook his head as they continued on.
Eventually, they made it to the glass house. Inside, there was an ornate fountain, filled to the brim with more flowers and something that was tiny and flying around.
“The Butterfly Sanctuary,” she smiled, slowly opening the door to make sure no bugs flew out. “I’ve always wanted to see it in person.”
He followed her inside, hissing at the sunlight that broke through the see through glass and pierced his eye. Ugh. He hoped this wouldn’t take too long.
His hackles were raising the further inside he went. There were blankets of butterflies everywhere. He certainly wasn’t afraid of them, but the sheer number of them were unnerving. Though, they were far more pleasant to be around than flies. Those were the worst. They had no fear and buzzed around ears like it was their job. At least these things made no sound as they lazily flapped around and landed on a nearby flower.
Of course, Amelie sat contently at the fountain, raising her arms up hoping they would perch on her. A few did, making her freeze in place. He could tell she wanted to sketch them, then realized they were on both arms. He chuckled. Sometimes she was so damn smart, and then sometimes, she was dumb as hell.
She shot him a playful glare. “How dare you laugh.”
“Sweetheart, I’m always laughing at you.”
She was going to retort, until her eyes followed something behind him. A very brave, very stupid butterfly was about to perch on his shoulder. Worry etched her face, thinking that he might bat it away, or worse.
He could feel the tiniest pin prick sensation of each leg landing on him. Sometimes, even he was shocked by his own hyper sensitivity. But unlike most things, the feeling of it didn’t irritate him. It was simply there, opening its wings up to flap and relax. It was a deep blue colour, standing out brightly against the black of his shirt.
“Is it...uncomfortable?” she asked.
“Nah,” he replied. “I can feel it, but it isn’t bad.”
She breathed out a sigh of relief, then smirked. “Good. I’d hate for your Disney princess moment to be ruined.”
He barely snarled at that, showing off a fang. “Shut up.”
Rolling his eyes, he opened his arms and did a lazy turn. “There, happy?”
She squealed and clapped. The butterfly had not moved an inch.
Later that evening, hours and hours after, Mason went through her new notebook while she slept. Flipping through, the edge of his mouth twitched as he stopped at a new sketch he hadn’t seen her draw. It was him, with the butterfly on his shoulder. She had drawn his eyes closed, and slight smile on his face.
Is that what he had looked like? So peaceful, and content?
He curled up beside her, watching her chest move up and down as she breathed. The motion and sound of her breath lulled him into sleep of his own.
At least, for now, they could stay in their own world, until reality would drag them back.
