Chapter Text
It's early morning, as it usually is when Percival wakes up. Zee being his usual heat leech, with arms wrapping tight around Percival's mid-section and face shmooshed so hard into his collar bones that Percival's waiting for the marks on his face when Zee wakes up.
It's been a hundred years since that Yule night when he and Zee had first gotten together. And it's been a rather amazing hundred years. He didn't realize how lonely he was until he had Zee by his side almost every waking hour.
~•~•~
Blinking up at the slanted ceiling of the shop he's come to call home since that Yule night, Zee's weight at his side is peaceful grounding. Outside one of the smaller windows in the loft he sees the rich and deep red that the old tree right outside’s leaves have turned. It's the season of turning leaves and cooling air with a bitter chill.
It's his favorite.
Today is the first day of Hallow's Festival.
“Hey, baby.” A groggy voice from his right mumbles sleepily, “Good Morning.”
When he looks down, Zee is looking up at him with those gorgeous Black-Purple doe eyes, a dopey smile on those bow shaped lips. God's he's beautiful.
Percival gives into the temptation to lean down and press a feather light kiss to those bow shaped lips, tilting his head to avoid that button nose out of muscle memory only.
Zee reels back giggling loudly with a huge toothy grin on his face.
“God's Mister.” Zee cackles, taking his arms back from around Percival's mid-section and moving to sit up, “You're too excited for this early in the morning.”
Percival laughs softly, sitting up too and pulling Zee into his arms who goes with giggling complaints, “what, am I just not allowed to love you?”
Zee bats at him, “You're allowed too!” Zee cackles, “But I'm damn tired. Give me a second to wake up.”
Percival rolls his eyes, straining down to kiss along Zee's neck, avoiding dark patches for the moment being, “You had no complaints with how I woke you up yesterday.”
Zee flushes red, pointedly avoiding eye-contact and clearing the rest of the sore from his throat that how loud he'd been that morning had left.
Percival giggles, a rumbling sound, against his neck before removing himself from the bed entirely, to which Zee whips around and glares at him before scrambling after.
“You sir,” he points a pale finger at his face and Percival has to resist the urge to bite it, “are a huge dick!”
Percival grins, “do you mean ‘i have’?”. Zee flushes more, avoiding eye-contact again.
“Damn it!” Zee huffs, banging his forehead against Percival's, “You're so damn lucky that I love you.”
“Love you too.” Percival smiles, twinning his arms around Zee's waist and pressing a peck to bow lips.
~•~•~
Walking out the front door of the shop brings the crisp cool of fall air nipping at Zee's nose and cheeks.
All the leaves on the trees have turned beautiful red's, yellows and oranges, slowly starting to fall down onto the cobbled streets and grassy spaces between buildings. The sky is a rich blue and cloudless. There's a soft wind bound south, blowing through the streets and bringing the smell of the sea with it.
Zee reaches behind him and grabs one of Percival's warm and rough hands, relishing in the familiarity of the only man he's loved like this.
Children are running through the streets, throwing handfuls of colorful leaves at each other and laughing in high voices.
Percival always keeps his head low around children, trying not to scare them with grossum scars that tell a story of 2,118 years of fighting to survive.
The old lady at the corner of Main Street and Rivius smiles and waves at them from her porch, before going back to her knitting, wooden needles clacking together in the early morning crisp cool.
~•~•~
Dusk brings excited conversations and children squealing loudly as they run down the streets, not tripping on the cobbled because they know where everyone that sticks up further is.
Day One of Hallow's Festival is about the leaves.
As legend goes, leaves are the embodiment of the cycles of life and death that repeat for eternity. They are Death's way of communicating to the people outside her grasp that they will be back again with new bodies and souls once again, because as known by the few who live long enough to see the cycle in action, a being can be reborn if they died with loose ends to tie up, or simply get bored of the world of the dead. There is also the chance they get sent back by the gods to fulfill a destiny no-one alive could complete, though that is rare.
Percival and Zee have met none that have been sent back in such a way.
For the first day of Hallow's Festival the first Marigold's fill the streets. It's a tradition that's been around as long as Zee and Percival have. The act of setting down a Marigold symbolizes the departure of spirits to Death's Fields, and is a way for the grieving to let go of someone they've lost. Some people don't put down the Marigold's, but everyone will at least once. Zee and Percival have put down the flowers for centuries, they've lost too many people for there to be flowers for them all.
Today is when yards are filled with leaf-angles and when wreaths of Autumn leaves are hung on front doors. Leaf piles are made and small children jump into them, getting lost in the prickly plants.
Today is a day of smiles and joy.
And that's how Percival and Zee spent it.