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"I think there's something wrong with our nightshade."
"Hmm?" Lydia asks, wiping the back of her palm against her damp forehead. The sun is shining brightly through the panes of glass that make up the walls of their greenhouse and the humidity is so thick that she could choke on it. She feels like her hair is going to frizz out of the tight braid she's pulled it into, even though she placed a charm on it before they came outside.
"The nightshade. It looks sick." Lydia frowns, sets down her pruning shears and crosses to where Jordan is standing. There's a large pot in front of him, filled with wilting, faded purple flowers. Jordan reaches out and gently brushes his finger over one of the buds. Lydia briefly catches the sharp, thick scent of magic, but if anything, Jordan's efforts just make the flower sag further.
"I'm afraid to charm it anymore," he murmurs. "I might kill it completely."
"We have more," Lydia says, glancing at the other pots lined up nearby. They're all filled with different strains of nightshade and they seem to be thriving, soaking up the sun and attention.
"I know," Jordan replies. "But that doesn't mean I want to lose this batch." Lydia can't help but smile. She's met some incredibly powerful witches in her time, but none of them were as attuned to plant life as Jordan is. He treats most of them like they're his family, cultivating them from seeds to beautiful, towering specimens. He's even reluctant to sell them, even though it gives them a steady source of income and a good reputation among the covens in the surrounding states.
"It'll be okay," she says, gently laying her fingers across his wrist, above his pulse point. "It'll come back to us. Maybe it just needs to be moved into the house for a bit."
"Maybe." Jordan carefully picks the huge, heavy pot up, cradling it in his palms. "How's the mistletoe coming?" Before Lydia can answer, a loud crash resonates through the room, coming from the direction of the door. Lydia feels the hairs on her arm prick up as she whips her head around. It's impossible to see the door through all the plants so she slowly starts weaving her way through, gently brushing aside flowers, trying to sooth the ones that feel agitated under her fingertips. She can hear Jordan picking his way through on the other side and they pop through the leaves at the same time, both of them with spells sitting on their tongues, ready to be unleashed.
Instead, when Lydia sees what caused all the commotion, she just sighs and drops her hands to her sides.
"Really, Stiles? Again?"
"I didn't do anything this time!" Stiles shouts. He's hanging upside down about four feet off the ground, suspended by a wrist-thick vine wrapped around one of his ankles. The vine leads to a stalk that's six feet tall and capped by the wide mouth of a Venus flytrap. It's Jordan's pride and joy, the result of years of meticulous care and while it took to Lydia quite well, it continues to try and eat Stiles every chance it gets.
(Lydia's about ninety percent sure the plant is just jealous. Jordan had tried to explain the concept of polyamory to it one night while stroking its leaves gently but it doesn't seem to have gotten the message.)
"Are you sure about that?" Parrish asks with a raised eyebrow and a small smile.
"Yeah!" Stiles answers. His resolve lasts for all of five seconds. "Okay, I was trying to feed it a dead rat! It was a peace offering!"
"Venus isn't interested in peace," Lydia says, rolling her eyes. "She just wants to eat you."
"She's going to eat me," Stiles retorts, arms flailing. "Can you do that thing you do, the talking to the plant thing?"
"You could do it too, with practice," Jordan says, stepping over beside Venus. He's almost at eye level with her head, but not an ounce of fear crosses his face.
"I think I'll stick to communicating with animals, thanks!" Stiles snaps.
"Stiles, be quiet for a minute," Lydia says. She is slightly afraid of Venus, but she tries not to let it show. She steps over to the other side of the plant, rubbing her thumb across Stiles' exposed ankle just underneath where the vine is wrapped around it. It's meant to be a soothing touch but based on the slightly panicked sound that leaves his mouth, it does nothing to ease his fear.
"Please put him down," Lydia murmurs, gently trailing her fingers up the vine. "We like him for some reason. We wouldn't be happy if you ate him." She can hear Jordan whispering something similar on the other side, one hand splayed against Venus' stalk. Lydia continues to talk, trying to let all of her positive emotions flow through her fingertips. Despite their efforts, there are a few moments where it looks like they may have to resort to desperate measures, since Venus continues to slowly pull Stiles towards her massive mouth. Lydia can tell that Stiles is trying to remain as calm as possible, but his face is ghost white and there's sweat beading on his forehead.
Finally, just as Lydia begins to whisper a spell, Stiles simply drops. The vine retreats and he hits the floor with a groan and a long string of curses. Lydia reaches out her hand and hauls him up, quickly checking to make sure that he didn't hit his head.
"Thank you," Jordan murmurs behind her. "I'll feed you later." Lydia knows that the plant isn't capable of making noise but she swears that she hears it sigh contently.
"Are you okay?" she asks Stiles. He gives his whole body a quick shake and nods, running a hand through his mussed up hair.
"I'll be fine. But that was way too close for comfort."
"She'll get used to you eventually," Jordan says, trailing his fingers through Stiles' hair as well and, miraculously, flattening down some of the more ridiculous looking parts.
"You've been saying that for the last three months," Stiles sighs. "It only took two weeks for her to stop trying to eat Lydia!"
"Ten days, actually," Lydia says, leaning forward and pecking him on the cheek. "She'll come around."
"If you say so," Stiles mumbles before turning his head and catching Parrish's mouth with his own. As soon as Parrish pulls back, Stiles turns back to Lydia and kisses her as well. Like always, he tastes a little bit like the forest, like mountain ash and fresh air, like a perfect compliment to Jordan. By the time she pulls back, Stiles is smiling again, all thoughts of Venus apparently forgotten.
"So, what are you two working on this afternoon?" he asks, turning on his heel and disappearing into the canopy of plants. "If you aren't busy, I brought some more seeds from Deaton. Belladonna, I think!"
Lydia glances over at Jordan and smiles before following Stiles' voice.
There are definitely days where she isn't quite sure how she fell for Stiles, the druid who can barely walk four steps without tripping but can talk to animals just as easily as he breathes. All she knows is that the how and the why isn't important. The fact is that Stiles fits perfectly with her and Parrish, that he slotted into their lives like he'd been missing all along.
At the end of day, when the three of them are curled up in their oversized bed, surrounded by their plants and pets, that's all that matters.