Chapter Text
Charlie’s always cursed the irony that his last name is, well, Spring. It’s his last name, it’s the season he was born in and every bloody day since he could remember and make conscious thoughts of his own, flowers and plants followed him everywhere he went. His mother has a dozen stories of him when he was only a baby turning the house into a jungle on occasion if someone didn’t come into his nursery to see why he was crying, Vines wrapping around his cradle, up the ceiling and out the door once.
(There might also be a story of how he made Venus Flytraps grow in Tori’s room and snip off her hair after he teased him one day as well, but no one mentions that one since he was 6.)
Point is, Charlie Spring is literally the embodiment of “Spring” and he’s also a gay disaster that is walking into school after coming out the last term of last year and not only being bullied for most of it, but also causing a Weeping Willow to sprout in the middle of the cafeteria to stop someone stealing his lunch and taking the roof off as well. So yeah. Not great.
The only people that seriously know of his “chronic illness” is his parents, Tao, Elle and Issac, as they had been best friends since like, forever and he’s not that great of an actor around them. When he was trying to hide it as a kid and they were over at Elle’s house for a sleepover just before he was forced to tell them, Charlie got so scared of the movie she had put on that Black Eyed Susans started sporadically appearing around the house in random places like the sinks and taps and even the hose blasted out clumps of yellowy gross petals until he left with his Mum and Dad the next day.
It doesn’t take a wizard to figure out that the local flower population explodes when Charlie’s around it, so when Elle, Tao and Issac hold an intervention, Charlie breaks down crying and several areas of Issac’s walls and ceiling are growing branches of Chamaecyparis, the green leaves sprinkling down like Charlie’s tears. While bewildered and in Tao’s case, completely rendered speechless for a while, they thankfully take it in their stride and help clean up the sudden mess so that Charlie nor Issac get in trouble, holes still in the walls from the incident hidden by bookshelves and posters as Issac got older.
Thankfully now, other than of course, last year, Charlie has the whole thing mostly under control again and doesn’t even squeak out a Daisy when he meets up with Ben in the music room before he’s having to attend his new form. He’s not exactly looking forward to sharing a table with some insufferable person who most likely will just sit and ignore him, but he’s here and walking through the door anyway towards the teacher, grim determination on his face.
“Ah, if it isn’t Charlie Spring. Happy New Year.” The headteacher speaks and it takes all of Charlie’s willpower not to suddenly combust and grow Orange Orchids everywhere just to calm himself down somehow. Gripping his bag tightly, he replies, voice choked. “Hi, Sir.”
“Come to join the ranks of Hamlet House?”
“Apparently so.” He can feel something wrapping around his hand and doesn’t have to really look to see that it’s a cluster of Yellow Carnations just chilling out on his bag strap, some of its stems wrapped around his fingers. It’s one of the most common flowers he grows these days. Thankfully, the teacher isn’t looking at him, but his schedule as he ponders. “Let’s see…where did I put you on the seating plan…ah, yes, over there-” He points to a corner seat directly in the sun and Charlie swallows hard. Of course they would put him in direct sunlight, it was one of the things that ”helped” his “very rare condition” and he should be in the sun as much as humanly possible for England.
(Honestly, if anyone deserved a BAFTA, it was his mother when she talked to any school board, Truham or otherwise, about little Charlie’s “condition”. She could convince them so willingly that he’s just a boy that has a Vitamin D deficiency or something and it would just go from there. Sadly, it had also become a joke over the years since he both came out as gay at home and then at school once others found out. Just one more thing to deal with.)
Charlie re-enters the present when the teacher’s voice catches up to him. “I’ve sat you next to Nicholas Nelson. He’s in Year 11, so only one year older than you.” Charlie can already feel the stems around his hand tightening as the teacher continues. “One of the rugby boys too, I think. I’m sure you’ll get along swimmingly, or you can just..sit in silence for the rest of the year. It really doesn’t affect me in any way whatsoever.”
Yeah, sure. Don’t give a shit about Charlie’s feelings on the matter. Great. A rugby player. Like the ones who took the piss out of him last year. His whole body almost shoots carnations out from every orifice as he’s dismissed and turns to view the table he’s been interred at for the rest of this grade and before he even knows what’s coming, what he sees hits him like a sudden cold shower and his whole body lights up as he takes in Nicholas Nelson’s face.
It’s beautiful, just like the rest of him. He was never going to hear the end of this from Tao when he finally meets him and Issac at lunch and tells him. It’s only when he slips off his coat to put it on the back of his chair does he notice the carnations are gone and his coat sleeves, as well as his pockets, are filled with Lilacs. He tries to not make this fact available to Nick as he sits down, eyes meeting his. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
And that’s how it starts.