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Kuwei watched from his seat at the other end of the table. Wylan clearly had no idea what he was doing, but Colm laughed and corrected him. Was so uninhibited in taking Wylan's hand to guide him through the steps of something as simple as cutting some vegetables. Kuwei's vision blurred and he saw-- something else-- layered over them.
Himself and his own father. His father teaching him how to cook, or trying to. Kuwei pulled his hands into his lap, running one hand over the other to ground himself. He could nearly feel the ghost of his father's bigger, more calloused hands over his. Kuwei swallowed.
Colm laughed again, and the sound was warm, inviting. Wylan did something and Colm smiled down at him like he were his own son. Ruffled Wylan's hair. Kuwei's scalp tingled, remembering what it felt like for his own father to be so familiar. So soft. So-- alive.
"You alright?" Kuwei nearly jumped out of his skin and turned. Jesper was standing over him, concern turning his lips down. Kuwei's breathing picked up. Saints he had gorgeous cheekbones.
He looked away before his eyes could drop to Jesper's lips. Instinctually they moved to Wylan. And Saints, Wylan was looking at him with his pretty eyes and long lashes. He opened his mouth to speak, but Kuwei glanced at Colm and it was all over.
Colm looked every but the concerned father. Kuwei wasn't sure how long it had been since an adult had worried over him. Colm himself, actually. Colm and-- and his own father--
His instincts took over. His words were polite, if breathless. "Excuse me, I just need some air." He hadn't finished the sentence before he'd bolted out the back door.
The back porch led to more fields. There was a barn further back on the grounds, but Kuwei didn't try to make it that far. He froze on the steps. Jurda. Obviously. Bright orange and blooming.
He forced himself to let out a shaky breath, straining to hear conversation still inside. He couldn't make out words at first, just Colm's concerned tone. Kuwei felt his chest tighten, bile beginning to rise.
Jesper said something, though Kuwei couldn't make it out. Wylan said something shortly after. Then Jesper picked up again. They were probably giving some excuse, for which Kuwei was grateful. But he waited. Colm said something else, and after another short silence, it sounded like they were going back to work on making dinner.
Kuwei waited another few seconds, each one stretching out long as the fields before him. Bright orange against the bright blue Zemini sky. He waited. But when he realized he was waiting, he scoffed at himself. What was he expecting? One of them to come after him.
He was an awkwardly welcomed guest. He shouldn't even be here.
He screwed his eyes shut, breathing in deep. The smell of jurda wasn't comforting. But at least it wasn't stuffy. The jurda hadn't been dried. This wasn't a lab. He was out under open sky.
Open sky, he reminded himself. Not stuffed into a lab. Open sky.
He walked out into the fields.
Kuwei stopped a ways away from the house. Out of earshot. He sat down among the crops. A jurda petal broke free and settled next to him. He picked it up tentatively, examining it. He had to admit, the color was beautiful.
It was an odd realization. These flowers were beautiful. Despite all the suffering they had caused, these flowers were not soaked in blood. They were just... Flowers. Blossoms which had changed the trajectory of his life.
That had ended his father's life. His and so many others.
Kuwei cried, surrounded by bright orange jurda blossoms, underneath the wide open Zemini sky, alone.
***
"Hey," a familiar, warm voice said. Kuwei had heard him coming. Had recognized his footsteps from afar.
"Hey," he replied, then winced. He'd wanted to sound cool. His voice sounded cracked and broken. He looked up just in time to catch Jesper trying to hide his pity. Kuwei scowled in response, then looked around. "Where's Wylan?"
Jesper tried for a half smile. It was a quarter at best. "Back inside," he replied. "Dinner's ready."
Kuwei looked away, back out at the rolling fields. He was far from hungry.
To his surprise, Jesper plopped down next to him on the dirt. "You alright?" He asked.
Yeah, fine, he wanted to say. He couldn't though. Not when Jesper sounded so genuine in his question. "It's just... A lot," Kuwei tried to explain.
"What is-- oh." Jesper followed his gaze, then looked down at Kuwei's hand, still clutching the jurda petal. "You... Wanna talk about it?"
Kuwei bristled, but he wasn't sure why. He immediately felt guilty. The spike of energy left him, and he was just back to feeling drained.
"Come on," Jesper pushed, though quietly, sweetly. "Something's been bothering you since we left Ravka. Spit it out."
Kuwei felt his eyes burn. "I-- I miss my dad." Saints, that's what he opened up with? Stupid.
He made the mistake of glancing at Jesper, who's expression had fallen. "Oh... Oh, Kuwei, I'm--"
Kuwei waved him off. "It's just. It's not just that." He stared out. He crumpled the petal between his fingers. "Just... Being here. Where jurda comes from..." He couldn't put his thoughts together.
Still, Jesper seemed to get it. It only made things harder. "Parem," he said simply. Kuwei strained to hear it, but there hadn't been any judgement, no malice. No blame.
"Yeah," he replied. But that seemed so lame. So, like a genius, he added, "the flowers are pretty."
Jesper beamed, so maybe it wasn't the worst thing to have said. "Yeah, they are. I love this shade of orange." Jesper plucked up another petal, running the pad of his thumb over it. "Softer than velvet," he added.
Kuwei watched him. He couldn't help it. The sun was setting now, but there was still enough light to see by. Jesper glowed in the golden hour light, and again Kuwei cursed just how attractive he was.
Kuwei looked down, biting his lip. He had to speak. To someone, anyone. Maybe Jesper would listen. Or maybe it'd be taken as guilt tripping. Kuwei screwed his eyes shut and sighed. But Jesper, oddly, remained quiet.
Fuck it, Kuwei thought.
"It's just... So much to take in," he began haltingly. "That these little flowers could have caused so much suffering. Have dictated my life." He winced. That sounded so dramatic. But wasn't it, though?
"My dad and I were on the run for so long. Even before then, we were in hiding. Dad worked on trying to find a suppressant. It was so hard for me to keep control. We had to be careful. Candles, lanterns, any light at all. If I didn't control myself--"
Images flashed before his eyes. He remembered his first bad tantrum. A room full of candles. Those tiny flames expanding. A beautiful room, curtains and paintings, all turned to ash.
He shut his eyes tight, but it didn't help. The images turned, jumped forward through the past. "I watched him die," he blurted out. "Gunshot to the head." Oh saints he was hyperventilating. "One second the Kerch extraction team was there. My father had stood from our campfire to greet them. Had reached out to shake a man's hand. And then--"
A crack. A spray of blood. Two, actually. Yelling. The bullet had been meant for the Kerch man. It had gone through his father's skull just as easily. He'd watched his father's body fall. Another of the Kerch had lunged for his and his father's supplies. He'd been gunned down.
Kuwei had rushed to his father, screaming. He shouldn't have looked. He'd held the bloody remains of his father's face, screaming. Another round of gunfire. He curled up over his father's destroyed head until he'd been yanked away. He'd been so powerless. Light as a doll being snatched from a child. Light as a child snatched from his father.
"Hey." A hand in his shoulder. Kuwei yanked out of the loose grasp. But the face before him wasn't ghostly pale, eyes cold as ice. Warm brown skin, dark eyes. He was hyperventilating.
Jesper lifted his hands up, "sorry, but it's okay." He said, fast but quiet. He repeated, but slower, calmer, "it's okay."
Kuwei looked down at his hands, stained with red-- orange. Orange-red in the waning light. Jurda. Parem. He gulped.
"It's my fault," he said incoherently, tears falling. Saints he was an idiot.
"What?" Jesper asked.
"Parem," he said, volume growing. "If I'd just been able to control myself, suppress my powers--" then Bo Yul-Bayur would never have needed to make an artificial suppressant. He would have never created Parem. He might still be alive. So many might still be alive.
"Hey, no," Jesper moved closer, slowly, making sure Kuwei could see him. He reached out, and Kuwei let him. Leaned closer. Saints any contact, anything at all was welcome. He was so tired of being alone.
But Jesper only took his hand. Kuwei told himself he should be happy for that much. That it was more than he'd ever deserve. Jesper pried his finger loose. Took the crushed jurda petal from him. Then he pulled back.
Kuwei let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. His skin tingled where he'd made contact with Jesper. His face flushed. Idiot, he admonished himself. You absolute idiot.
Jesper caught his eye, and Kuwei couldn't breathe. The light was fading fast, but Jesper was so stupidly pretty. Pretty? Was that even the word for it? Whatever. Saints he could barely keep a coherent thought.
"You helped make the cure," Jesper said, quietly. Evenly. Kuwei nodded. "And that helped Nikolai, Zoya and the other leaders." Kuwei shrugged. He really hasn't done anything to do with all of that.
But Jesper nodded. And then he did something that made Kuwei's breath catch. Jesper held up the jurda petal he'd been holding. Bright orange, even in the growing dark. And he leeched it of color. It was slow, it took a minute, and by then night had begun to settle. But Kuwei barely breathed.
"Because of your help," Jesper said, "because of everything that's happened. I don't live in fear anymore." Jesper extended his hand, handing Kuwei the petal, now a blank gray. A blank slate.
"You've done your part. And you're out of there now. Whatever happened before, because of everything that happened, because of what you did to help with the cure, we can both live our lives now. However we want."
Jesper's eyes were darker than normal, both from the darkness, and from how large his pupils were. Kuwei's heart hammered. He wish Jesper hadn't said "we." It gave him too many ideas.
So Kuwei stopped himself, looked away. At the hand still extended toward him. "Thank you," he said, taking the petal. He held it close to his chest, but was careful not to crush it. "I-- thank you, Jesper."
Jesper smiled. And Saints he was beautiful.
"Come on, dinners getting cold."