garden + ace 🪴🌻😘
(2/2) lol gdi that was supposed to be nace, I got autocorrected
nace + garden from these prompts and that’s ok tbh I could probably write endlessly about just ace in a garden lmao 💖
“What have you got there, buddy?” Nancy says slowly. She approaches Ace, bent at the waist in a way that’s meant to be the tiniest bit patronising.
Ace jumps and throws her a flat look over his shoulder, up to his elbows in the sandbox of dirt and weeds that materialised sometime last week behind the back of The Claw.
It started with suspicious disappearances.
Nancy had been trying not to track Ace’s every movement when they’d been within a ten foot radius of each other but it was hard. Her eyes were drawn to him across whatever distance stretched between them, and she’d find that she’d been watching him for an embarrassingly creepy amount of time before she could snap out of it. Captivated by the little moments, like watching his practiced hands slice vegetables, or juggle dishes, or snap a dish towel over his shoulder.
He hasn’t seemed to notice, thank god, because given how eloquently her tongue trips over itself in front of him since a certain dream—she cringes at the thought of having to explain herself.
But it was only because of this interesting development that she’d noticed he was vanishing out the kitchen door more often than usual. If it weren’t for the furtive looks and the mud stains down his front, Nancy would have left him to it.
She would’ve.
Ace sighs, shoulders slumping from around his ears. His hand comes up to rub at the back of his neck, leaving smudged fingerprints on his skin when it drops again.
“I’m… gardening,” he says, like he doesn’t quite believe it.
“You sure?” Nancy asks, cocking an amused brow.
Ace sits back on his heels, tossing a trowel between his hands. “Bess kept mentioning how expensive it was getting to keep buying all these plants and herbs for her spells and things, and I thought it’d be a bonus to have a fresh herb garden for the kitchen. The personal touch.” He looks back at the upturned dirt. “The plants aren’t so keen on the idea.”
She’s not sure when it happened, but there’s a tender ache in her cheeks from the persistent smile that’s settled on her lips. “That’s… a really sweet idea.”
Ace waves her away. There’s a reflection of a smile on his face though, too.
“Here,” Nancy says, kneeling on the damp ground next to him and plucking the tool from his hands, letting their fingers brush. “My mom loved to garden. I’m sure I can remember a few things.”
