IPOMOEA
miles away from home
H
er smile ignited his own, spreading like wildfire across his lips: reckless, unbidden, illuminating the fine bones of his face and setting his eyes alight. His flowers were quickly forgotten as he stepped closer to the freckled dancer, his heart leaping like grasshoppers inside of his chest. It was a strange sensation… but not unwelcome. He was becoming used to the way his stomach seemed to twist itself into knots whenever Messalina was near. For a brief, terrifying second, he was afraid she wouldn’t accept his offering: silence stretched between them like a chasm, causing his heart to stammer to an unsteady halt. ”It’s beautiful.” Those two words were enough to kickstart it back into rhythm, and he let out a shaky breath that he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “The garden is filled with beauty today.”
The roses were in full bloom—but he wasn’t referring to them. His cheeks were bright, red against the rosy hues of his coat, and he averted his eyes quickly, suddenly afraid of what he might see in her’s.
Po brushed his shoulder gently against a nearby rose bush, feeling the plant’s slow-moving thoughts meld itself to his. A trickling of sensations flowed through their connection: peace and contentedness and… anticipation? Humor? The flowers almost felt amused, as if they were in on some loosely-held secret that he himself was not privy to. The plant’s subconscious held no true rhyme or reason, much less words, but the impression of emotions was unmistakable the longer the connection was open.
With a quiet snort, he leaned back away from them.
“Thank you,” his voice was still hushed, but sincere. ”That means a lot.” He’d heard a hundred congratulations today—but her’s felt so much more important. As if her’s was the only one that really mattered to him, without Po having realized it before now. He smiled back at her, small and shy-like.
“Oh, Messa! That’s wonderful!” He couldn’t help the enthusiasm from spilling uninhibited past his lips, his smile growing until it was broad and split nearly ear to ear. “You must be thrilled!”
Only, she seemed so…melancholic wasn’t quite the word, but Po couldn’t quite place her mood. He listened to her next words carefully, ears pricking forward in interest. Somnus hadn’t told him about the promotion—but the news made his heart leap a little higher all the same. He trusted the dunalino, and besides that, it felt simply right to him.
Even if Messalina appeared far less certain herself.
“…Why not?” After an entire day of careful rehearsals and speeches and “business talks”, his tact disappeared in the blink of an eye. With a start, he tried to regain his composure. “I mean… what part makes you so uncertain?” He wondered if she had accepted the position yet; almost selfishly, he hoped she had, if only because it would mean she’d be home more often in the coming weeks.
“…For what it’s worth, I think you’ll be great. You already are,” the words slipped out uninvited, but oddly enough, Po found he didn’t want to take them back. His eyes looked shyly up at her from beneath a heavy layer of dark lashes, wishing only to see her smile again.
@messalina | "speaks" | notes: <3
