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The sound of a quill scratching words onto paper wasn’t an unfamiliar sound in the library of this small village. However, the creator of this sound was a temporary addition on his travels through. Usually, Ghost would only be focusing this hard on writing about the leads he found for their quest for the pendant. Today, however, there was something else on his mind. Dandelions.
Dandelions. I can’t stop thinking about them. I never took much notice of them until today, and now I am seeing them everywhere. They remind me of him—that idiot.
Today we took a break outside of the village in a flower field. We spent all morning chasing leads across the countryside, and on the way back, Theo saw the flowers and insisted we stop. I wasn’t necessarily against it, I was just tired, and seeing the number of bees flying about the field made the idea less than appealing. However, before I could say anything, he was already trudging into the field like the headstrong idiot he is. He seemed so happy, though...
I have to admit sitting in the warm sun next to him wasn’t so bad. I could never say this out loud because it’d inflate his ego even more, and if I let that happen, it may block out the sun. We talked about our next steps in our journey and everything we needed to get in order before we left the village, but he blindsided me with a very strange question.
“If you were a flower, what flower do you think you’d be?”
Well, I didn’t know. What flower would I be? I’m still not sure, but I flipped the question on him. He didn’t even pause to think.
“A dandelion.”
I have to admit I was surprised at first by how certain he was with this answer, and that he had so confidently classified a weed as a flower. I brought this up to him in a teasing way, of course, he isn’t a very learned man so sometimes I have to explain surprisingly simple things. Well, I was wrong.
He told me that he was aware, but he pushed me to think about how, when we were children, we often loved dandelions because they were the most common flower we saw and played with. That children see dandelions as beautiful flowers until they are eventually taught that they are weeds. He asked me if I had never been taught they were weeds, would I still look upon them poorly? Would people still get angry when they start to grow in their gardens? I didn’t know how to process this all in the moment, but he talked about dandelions so seriously. I’ve never seen him with such a serious stare.
I thought about it while we walked back to the village gates and I have to agree with him. He is a lot like a dandelion. He grew tall and fast in a place he shouldn’t; people tried to rip him from the ground and destroy him because they thought he shouldn’t be there in their perfect garden. He definitely didn’t belong there, and they were right, but they couldn’t destroy him, he just grew stronger. Yet, today, seeing him sitting among the wildflowers, his face turned to the sun with such a relaxed smile on his face I could only think that he’s found the garden he belongs in. Wild and free basking in the sun and swaying in the wind. My dandelion.
They are quite beautiful flowers.
Ghost startled out of his reverie when he heard familiar heavy footfalls echoing in the otherwise quiet library. He snapped his journal shut, looking up as he saw his carefree counterpart bounding up to him with a stupid grin on his face, “You’re being unnecessarily loud, Theo.” He groused, sliding his journal into his bag. He glanced down and away as Theo leaned over the table with a knowing smile as if he could read his thoughts. “You missed me, sunshine.” the smug words made Ghost roll his eyes, but the pet name made his stomach flutter. “Don’t call me that.” He groused, glancing up at the other. Idiot.