"I can avoid them," she replied, going back into her room and getting on her knees to look under her bed. She pulled out a large bag made of dried lantern plants. It was bulky; she had packed. "I'm serious, Cy. I'm going to leave. I just wanted to wait until you were here so I could say goodbye." * * * "Flatterer. We need to gather nettle pods. The mice love them."
"What do you mean 'goodbye'? We can still see eachother." *** "Nettle pods?" she asked. "Like the stinging nettles? I see."
She hesitated, coming back over to the window. "Well, ideally, yes. But... I mean, if I'm outside, and you're in the house... and I can't come back... I don't know. It doesn't seem likely." * * * "We have a way of dealing with them. Don't worry."
He stepped back, a frown on his face. "What? So this is it, then?" *** She nodded slowly. "That's more reassuring."
She shook her head, looking over her shoulder worriedly. "I don't... I don't want it to be." * * * "You don't mind getting stung a little, do you?"
She watched him, her brows furrowed. "Don't look at me like that," she said, sounding more upset. "You know I don't have a choice." * * * "That's my girl," he said smoothly, dipping underneath an upturned root.
"Then stop looking at me like that," she shot back, crossing her arms as well. * * * They approached a field of tall nettles that towered above them. Their pods were blooming, flowers the color of bruises dangling from the stalks.
She glowered at him, looking irritated for a moment. It was an integral part of Dahlia's character, but it was also the worst part. She was generally a very content young woman, but any other emotion that might strike her would inevitably turn into anger. If she was sad, it wouldn't be long until she snapped at someone in frustration. The same followed for the fear that was plaguing her at this moment. Osiris would recognize the narrowing of her eyes and the furrowing of her brows as she looked down at her bag. "No. I got it." * * * "We made a tool," he said, going over to one of the roots and digging around. After a moment, he pulled out a long hook. "Ta-da!"
He dropped his arms, watching her as he took another cautionary step. "Okay." *** She grinned. "Perfect."
She glared at him before moving over the windowsill, looking over her shoulder tentatively. "Okay. Well..." She offered him a hand to shake, one brow arched critically. * * * "I thought you'd like it," he said, reaching out and hooking the tool around the base of the stem and offering the handle to her.
He looked down at her hand in confusion before stepping forward and hugging her. *** She took it. "I do. It's nice."
She seemed surprised by this, but after a moment, he would feel her hands slide up his back like they always did, her fingers curling in his shirt. * * * "It takes a bit of leverage," he instructed. "But try and move the stem back and forth."
He was quiet for a moment before starting to laugh quietly. "A handshake?" *** She nodded, doing as he instructed.
She laughed too, but it sounded like she might have been crying; she had to gasp a little for the breath. "I was mad." * * * It was harder than it looked. The stem was much taller than they were. However, she managed to get a decent sway, and the pods began to fall to the ground. "Good. Nice work."
She had tears in her eyes and she swiped at them hastily, watching him. "You'd better." * * * "You can stop," he replied. "Now we can go collect them."
