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Deuce allowed the wood of the table to cool his cheek, laying down on his side as he watched the man in front of him with a lazy gaze. He couldn't help but find the rhythmic swaying of moving arms, and gentle steps to be relaxing.
The young first mate of the Spade pirates still didn't trust any of the Whitebeards, but he did find some comfort in the company of the 16th commander. The tall, graceful man had such a calming presence. He never once pushed himself onto Deuce, and instead welcomed him with open arms whenever he sought him out. Izou acted like such a caring big brother towards him, and never once did he ask for something in return.
His green eyes watched as Izou’s hands delicately gathered up a bouquet of fragile white flowers, tying them all together with soft colored satin ribbons. Now Deuce was far from an expert on flowers, but he had to admit his interest was slightly piqued as he silently watched him.
“So, why are you making all these anyway?” It was the first time he had spoken in hours, and it had obviously shocked Izou as he was sent a surprised gaze. Yet the shock didn't last long as quickly the man went back to his work.
“I like to make these for those who join the family. A little gift from me to you.” Izou hummed to himself, tucking a piece of smooth black hair behind his ear as his dark eyes stayed concentrated on the rich green stems. His words however, only brought more questions than answers.
“I thought white flowers were for funerals though? Isn't it a little weird to give new family members flowers meant for mourning?” Deuce lifted his head up, cheek sore from hours of laying on it. The confusion on his face was quickly subsumed by embarrassment as the other man began to laugh .
“It has to do with flower language. Daffodils and white roses stand for new beginnings. So as a sign of your new beginning in our family, I wanted to give these to you and the rest of the Spades.” Izou spoke gently, eyes looking Deuce over with a kind expression before he turned back to his bouquets. It was almost as if he saw the young man as one of his flowers, fragile, and quick to wilt if he pushed too hard. Deuce’s pride didn't know how to feel about such a thing.
He should have felt slighted, mad to have someone look down on him, but instead there was a different feeling that emerged. One that confused Deuce as he was left to stare at the lone bouquets, lost in thought as he observed the way they meshed beautifully together. White petals lightly brushed against one another as if to give a little kiss, their vibrant leaves even seemed to be wrapping each other in a hug as they were tied together with a big bow.
Deuce never would have thought about it before, but it was truly an art! Beautiful, striking, and graceful all at once! And Deuce had to admit, he was curious.
“Um, it's really nice of you to do that.” Slowly he peeled himself away from the table, standing up tall so he could look Izou right in the eye as he spoke. “Though, um, how does one do that?” Little did he know, it was harder to just come out and ask what he wanted, slipping over his words like they're made of oil as he tried to speak.
Was it wrong for a man to be interested in flowers? He knew Izou seemed to enjoy it, but was it weird for Deuce specifically to be curious?
“Are you asking me about flower language?” Izou had a knowing smile across his features. It was as if he was reading his mind, able to pick apart what Deuce was thinking before the young man himself knew. Deuce swallowed back a glob of fear that collected in his throat.
“It's just for my book, something to spice up my writing. You know?” He tried to brush it off, averting his eyes to a corner of the cabin in a desperate attempt to hide his embarrassment. Yet he had a feeling Izou was still giving him that sly smile, a twinkle in his dark eyes as he picked apart the young man.
“I see, well if you would like I can share a book on it? It's not the most in-depth, but it's a start.” There was a knowing hum in his tone, almost as if he was a parent coddling his worried child. It was an odd position for Deuce to be in, but he tried to not let his face reflect those feelings.
Deuce wanted to seem confident, yet all he did was twiddle his thumbs like the nervous fool he was. A mutter escaped his lips as he sent a quick look towards Izou. “That would be great, thank you.”
Deuce never realized what that moment truly meant for him. How much it would consume his life, eat away at his thoughts, and leave him frantically gathering flowers at every island they stopped at.
The way he gripped the vibrant green stems could be seen as barbaric, pulling them violently out of the thick soil, and rustling their pristine petals as he shoved them into his bag. Yellow tulips for hopeless love, foxglove for insecurity, and gardenias for secret love were all that he carried back throughout several weeks. Their sweet scent left behind on his thick green coat, trailing behind him like a vengeful ghost waiting to get revenge for the fallen flowers.
Silly would have been an understatement of how Deuce felt. He was a grown man with a bag full of flowers, and a heart filled with fluttering butterflies. Reminiscent of a love struck school girl fawning over the crush she only saw out of the corner of her eye. Yet maybe that's exactly what he was, as there was only one thought on his mind as he scurried across the ship’s deck like a frightful mouse.
A bouquet at a doorstep. A simple action, but to Deuce it spoke the myriad of words that were swimming within his mind. He wasn't even sure why he was doing this. It was insane! Stupid! Yet it was the only thing he thought about since the moment he opened the thick hard covered book that Izou had lent him.
A whole new world had been opened to him, revealing a language and dance he never knew existed. He could speak things he so desperately wanted to say, but without a soul knowing. The mystery behind it all was invigorating, and Deuce couldn't hold himself back before he had packed up the book and rushed outside in search of flowers! Maybe he was a little too eager. As for the first time in his life, Deuce lacked a plan.
Currently, Deuce had his back pressed against the wall, heart beating like a drum as he was forced to endure the agonizing wait. Every once in a while he would just so slightly peek around the corner, looking towards a particular door before shooting back to his hiding spot. God, he felt unstable. His messy hair, and wild doe-eyed expression was enough to give anyone that thought.
Deuce jolted when he heard the loud screeching of a wooden door being opened. Grabbing his attention like a hand desperately tugging his chin forward. Fear took over his form as he waited to see Ace’s reaction, its grip on his soul suffocating him as he just barely peeked around the corner.
There was Ace, standing at the threshold of his room, and looking about with a confused expression across his features. It was normal for Ace to be lost, always taking him a few seconds to blink away the drowsiness from his daily nap, but everything changed when those deep brown eyes spotted the little mountain of petals at his feet.
He slowly bent down, fingers gently picking up a little yellow petal so he could examine it. Deuce wished he knew what Ace was thinking, wondering deep down if he enjoyed the little gift he had left.
All of the sudden, Ace grabbed a handful of petals and shoved them right into his pocket. Heading down the hall without a single care in the world. It was only a few seconds, but to Deuce it felt like forever. Even as Ace moved, Deuce’s eyes followed him, unable to believe that his gift was so well received.
“Oh, he took it.” Deuce could feel his breath be snatched away, falling back against the nearby wall so he could steady his beating heart. He was on top of the world! Floating away on his own little cloud as the world began to burst with color.
Was this love? Deuce had no idea, but he knew he felt this way every time he saw Ace. Being around his captain made the world better, no, it made life better in general. He just wanted to feel this way forever, craving that look Ace would have when something made him happy.
With newfound giddiness, Deuce made his way from the barracks. Mentally skipping as he hummed a happy little tune. He was determined to make Ace happy, and continued to give him gifts until the man was drowning in flowers.
For the next few weeks Deuce had left flowers at Ace’s door. Each bundle becoming less beat up, and filled with more meaning than the last. The words he had always wanted to say being screamed out through petals and stems.
“Thank you for understanding me." Deuce started by gathering some Hydrangea. “You are my first love.” With gentle hands he added some purple lilacs, watching as the color made the bouquet pop. “I wish you loved me too.” Lastly, some daisies. Letting the little white flowers make themselves right at home as he tied it off with a large bow. He wouldn't say it was the perfect arrangement, but seeing his improvement from his first attempt was enough to give him satisfaction.
Deuce clutched the stems close to his chest, taking in the flowers' beautiful scent with a deep breath as he did so. For some odd reason, it calmed him. Gave him new strength as he slowly made his way towards his captain’s door.
Ace still had no idea who was leaving him flowers, and Deuce preferred it that way. Just seeing the way that freckled face would light up at the sight of colorful petals made everything worth it. His eyes sparkling like tiny stars as he looked over each gift, cherishing them for days as he adorned his orange hat with its own little garden. The sight alone made Deuce’s heart flutter happily, fueling him to continue his secret messages.
Deuce felt like a love struck school girl, chuckling to himself as he imagined Ace’s face within the safety of his mind. Silly would have been an understatement to how he felt, yet it didn't stop him from his mission. At least until he hit a wall. Literally.
With his attention elsewhere, Deuce had run head first into a hard surface. Sending him back in shock as the flowers within his hands went flying, color raining down onto the two individuals like a gentle snow. Petals fell gracefully until they took refuge on a familiar orange hat.
“Oh, sorry about that.” Ace’s voice was so matter-of-fact, speaking without a care in the world as Deuce was left to stare at him in shock. He didn't know how to respond to Ace, his heart beating heavily within his chest as he remained on the ground.
Why was Ace out of his room!? He was never up this early! Always sleeping in until breakfast was served in the mess hall, and then heading off to do whatever crazy thing he had planned! This was abnormal, insane even, and Deuce could only stare in horror up at the man.
“Deuce? Hello? You ok there?” A calloused hand snapped Deuce out of his thoughts, waving in front of his face like a beckoning flag.
“Y-Yeah, I'm ok.” Though Deuce was finally able to speak he couldn't believe his own words. As his eyes scanned the remains of his bouquet he couldn't help but feel his heart contort and crush itself within his chest, leaving him in pain as his hard work was flushed down the drain. Even as he pulled himself to his feet he couldn't help but continue to stare at the mess of petals.
“Oh, I didn't mean to destroy it.” Ace, finally noticing the broken flowers, quickly blurted out his own version of an apology. Eyes wide as he ran a hand through his curly dark hair. “I just wanted to talk to you.” Yet, as Ace quietly mumbled to himself, he swore he saw a light blush against his freckled cheeks.
“O-Oh, it's fine. It wasn't anything special.” Deuce tried hard to brush away the flutter of emotions in his chest. His mind raced as stumbled and stammered his way through conversation, eyes darting about as nerves consumed him.
“Don't say that! I know they are important to you!” The words flew out of Ace’s mouth, shocking both men as they were left stunned. If Deuce wasn't blushing before, he definitely was now.
“I-um. Just take this.” With his face hidden by the brim of his hat, Ace dug into his short’s pocket, pulling out a ruffled bundle of purple flowers. They looked worse for wear, but that didn't seem to bug the man as he shoved them right in Deuce’s face.
It had all happened so fast, and that didn't improve as when Deuce gently took the tiny bouquet Ace had darted off in the opposite direction. Only giving him a peek at his red features before he was gone.
Fuschias. A flower that stood for confiding love. Deuce could barely believe it as he looked down at the little bundle in his hand, yet the sight filled him with glee. Ace gave him a flower, but more specifically, one that was bursting with beautiful meaning.
Gently, he placed a Fushica within his hair. The purple petals clashed against his bright blue hair, but Deuce didn't care. He wore it with pride. It was a symbol of love, one that only the two men knew about, and he wanted Ace to know that he accepted his silent plea.
Their love was something to be cherished, growing like little buds, and soon to bloom into a flower of passion. Alone their love may be weak, but together they persevere through all. Hand in hand, stronger than ever.