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Ethan banged his head twice on his headboard before turning to glare at the little potted plant on his bedside table.
“You stupid plant,” he whispered menacingly. And in a mocking voice, he added “ You have to take care of this properly, E. It needs a lot of sunlight so you have to start opening your windows now. ”
Ethan wanted to hurl that ugly plant out of the window.
He banged his head once more on, and groaned slowly, a sound between a whining child and a dying old man, as he slid further down his bed. He stared at his empty, white ceiling for a beat before he started thrashing around on his bed like a madman — limbs messing up his sheets and clawing on his face. He grabbed a pillow and stuffed his face in it harshly before opening his mouth to continue making ugly screeching noises from his throat.
Once again, he cursed the world, his heart, his head, his father, his friends, and everything else but most especially that stupid, ugly plant. For what is probably the 86th time this week, Ethan wondered why he was such an anxious, overthinking mess of a human being.
This was all Travis’s fault.
Ethan was in a group study with friends a few days ago. Alabaster, who came from doing deliveries for Katie’s family’s flower shop, sank onto the couch beside Connor. Visibly exhausted, he allowed his head to gently rest upon Connor's shoulder.
“How’d it go, babe?” Connor asked, his fingers playfully scratching Alabaster’s chin.
Alabaster swatted his hand away, “Got overworked and underpaid.” He stared blankly at nothing before saying, “Y’know her grandma said if I was a plant, I would be a useless weed in the corner of an abandoned garden.”
The group of friends laughed at him. “Fuck you guys!” Alabaster sat up straight and glared at everyone.
Michael, chin up and smirking, pointed his pencil at him. “Jesus, you’re not even the type that gets people high? That’s fucking sad, Torrington.”
“And you, Yew ,” Alabaster pointed back at him, “wouldn’t even be a plant. You would be cow shit they would use for fertilizer.”
“And I would be useful shit,” Michael taunted him, laughing as he slid his pencil behind his ear. “Unlike some useless weed in the corner of an abandoned garden.”
“If,” Silena, ever the angel, started, diffusing an incoming fight between the two. “If we were flowers, what would we be?”
“I would be an edelweiss.” Michael declared.
“What’s that?” Chris asked, looking up from his game. “And why would you be that?”
“It’s the national flower of both Austria and Switzerland, dummy. It means devotion,” Michael replied, rolling his eyes at Chris. “And because I’m a Hetalia fan and that’s my ship, loser.”
Chris snorted, “Michael, if you're a Hetalia fan then you are the loser.” He showed his phone screen to everyone. “Anyways, I looked it up and it’s an ugly flower. Cool meaning, though.”
“Well, Mikey’s ugly. What else did we expect,” Alabaster grinned.
“Eat shit, both of you.”
“I think,” Beckendorf started, tapping his ruler on the design he was sketching. “I want to be a clover. The white ones. They’re cute. Looks interesting. Classy.”
“That suits you, Charles,” Silena said. “I wanna be a daisy. Simple and dainty. Easy to draw.”
“Well, that suits you. To be fair, everything suits you, Lena,” Connor replied. “As for moi, I’m gonna be the pretty purple lilacs. What about you, Ethan?”
“Ethan would be a cactus,” Travis quipped.
Silence.
Travis looked up from his accounting textbook, only to find the collective gaze of his friends fixed squarely upon him. “What?"
Connor, with a sly grin, replied, "Dude, you just called Ethan a cactus."
Travis raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, and?"
Chris chimed in, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "I'm pretty sure there's an insult hidden in there somewhere."
Travis gave him a puzzled look.
Chris continued, "I mean, cacti are kind of boring."
"And dangerous, with all those prickly thorns," Michael interjected, suddenly grasping the connection. "Oh, I see it now. It's because Ethan rarely lets anyone get close to him."
The entire group burst into laughter. "I thought it was because he was as dry as the desert and belonged there," Alabaster teased.
“Ha ha, very funny, weirdos.” Ethan, rolling his eyes at the laughter, turned his gaze toward Travis, his expression faux-annoyed. "Thanks a lot, T. Care to explain?"
Travis raised his hands defensively, feigning innocence."Well, I just thought it suits you."
"Suits me how?" Ethan asked suspiciously.
"Because you're short." Travis deadpanned, once again making the group erupt in laughter.
“Oh, fuck you,” Ethan threw Michael’s pencil at him.
“Kidding, kidding!” Travis had one hand clutching his ribs as he laughed.
Ethan's face turned a faint shade of pink as embarrassment washed over him. He tried to play it cool and brush off the comment, but deep down, he couldn't help but wonder why Travis had referred to him as a "cactus." The term felt hurtful and confusing, especially when it came from someone he had feelings for.
As the days went on, Ethan couldn't shake the feeling of unease. He wondered if this nickname was a reflection of how Travis truly saw him, and if so, what it meant. Did Travis find him prickly or difficult to approach? The uncertainty nagged at Ethan's thoughts, making him question if the others were spot on with their jokes.
Ping
Ethan reached out to grab his phone from the bedside table. As he read the text, a look of annoyance crossed his face, and he couldn't help but roll his eyes. "How could one man be so fucking stupid I hate him," he muttered to himself.
Travis the Elf 🧝 : hows the cactus
“I will hurl this thorny plant right at your face,” he slowly said as he typed the same reply on his phone. He deleted it and sent out another one.
still thorny as you left it an hour ago idiot 🙄
Travis the Elf 🧝 : haha i found the card its supposed to go with. Im on my way back ;)
“That better be a love letter straight from Shakespeare’s mouth,” he grumbled.
Travis arrived at Ethan’s dorm room within minutes, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, and he took a moment to catch his breath before greeting Ethan. "Hey," he said, offering a slightly breathless smile as he handed over the now slightly crumpled and damp card.
Ethan raised an eyebrow, noticing Travis's disheveled appearance. "Did you run all the way here?" he asked with a hint of amusement. "Because this card looks like it's been through a workout."
Travis pouted, pretending to be hurt. "No need to be so harsh," he replied, his voice playful. "I just wanted to make sure you got the card as soon as possible."
"Okay," Ethan replied, his skepticism evident in his tone. He accepted the card from Travis and held it in his hands, curiosity piqued.
Travis hesitated, extending his hand. "Wait, don't read it yet," he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "I'm gonna go, and then you can read it."
He turned to leave but quickly spun back around, a mix of uncertainty and determination in his eyes. "Well, maybe you could read it while I'm here," Travis continued, his words coming out in a rush. "Or I could stay while you read it. It doesn't really matter, ANYWAYS..."
Travis sighed, hiding his face in his hands and groaning softly. He walked over to the bed and took a seat, his leg jiggling nervously up and down as he anxiously bit his thumb's nail. He looked up at Ethan with a conflicted expression, his emotions clearly on display.
Ethan watched Travis's actions with a full sense of confusion, wondering what could possibly be written on the card that had the other so worked up. “I’m gonna read it now,” he says.
Travis nodded.
Ethan read the card. Then he read it again.
In the heart of a perilous desert, devoid of the comforts of life, you blossomed. You may not boast the extravagance of the world's most exquisite blooms, but your very existence renders you priceless. If fate grants you the opportunity, you unfurl your petals, unveiling your delicate beauty. I fervently yearn to become the person privileged to witness your enchanting display someday.
What the fuck.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?”
Travis's question about Ethan's silence hung in the air, and Ethan's mind raced with uncertainty. Then, out of nowhere, Travis blurted out, "It's a confession."
Ethan's eyes widened, and he snapped his head up to meet Travis's gaze. The room seemed to hold its breath at that moment.
"I mean, no, I... I don't mean anything," Travis stumbled over his words, his face turning a deep shade of red. "It is what it is. It's a confession. I like you, is what I'm saying."
Travis's admission hung there, awkward but vulnerable and raw. Ethan was taken aback by the unexpected confession, his own emotions a whirlwind of surprise and realization. The room felt charged with tension, as they both grappled with the weight of Travis's words.
Ethan opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. A few moments passed before he asked “Did you write this?”
“Yeah,” Travis replied, a perplexed look plastered on his face.
Ethan shook his head as he tried to keep himself from smiling. “No, you did not.”
“I so did!”
“Did you ChatGPT this?” Ethan playfully raised a brow.
“No? Maybe?” Travis slowly replied. “Okay, yeah! Yes, I did, so what? Are you against the use of technology in confessions?” He stood up and paced around Ethan’s room, waving his arms as he spoke, keeping his back to Ethan. “I mean, I needed the help. I’m an accounting major.”
Ethan thought he looked adorable.
"You're ridiculous, is what you are," Ethan finally managed to say, his voice tinged with a mix of affection and exasperation. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Travis's back as if to physically anchor himself in the moment. He allowed himself to take in Travis's scent and presence, reveling in the other’s warmth.
Ethan glanced at the card once more, a small smile playing on his lips. Despite the initial surprise and confusion, he couldn't help but feel a rush of affection for the person who had just confessed to him. Travis might have been a bit of a dork, but in that moment, Ethan couldn't deny the fluttering feeling in his chest that told him he might be falling in love with this endearing and genuine soul.
Not that he didn’t know that already but his heart made it a point to remind him.
“I like you too, Travis,” he whispered. He opened his mouth to say it again louder but couldn’t help but snort as he remembered the taller one’s confession. “That’s a better confession than yours, by the way. If fate grants you the opportunity, you unfurl your petals, unveiling your delicate—”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Travis turned to face him and playfully covered Ethan’s mouth with his hand. “I literally just typed something about cactus blooming flowers if they’re lucky and that’s what AI gave me.”
Ethan giggled harder. “What does that even mean?”
“Well you know, we had that flowers discussion the other day and you seemed upset that I called you a cactus. But I know I said it as a joke but what I meant was you’re resilient, independent and strong and cool, and you know cacti do produce flowers and I said that because I—” Travis cut off and stared at Ethan, who was biting his lip to keep himself from laughing. He said in a deadpan voice “You know what I mean, you’re just messing with me.”
“I do and I am,” Ethan chuckled. “I rarely see you like this. Forgive me?”
“No, I won’t. This is our first fight as a couple.” Travis replied, pretending to be cold.
Ethan hummed. “What should I do for you to forgive me, boyfriend?”
A smile slowly spread on Travis’s face. He couldn’t help but feel giddy at being called ‘boyfriend’. He cocked his head to the side, his eyes filled with mirth and affection, and gently placed his hand on Ethan's waist.
“You could let me name the plant.”