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Why was the flower so droopy?
Flowers weren't supposed to be that droopy. Right? What was Scott doing wrong? Why was it so.. sad?
He heaved a big sigh, taking a step back.
After last night, when the air was electric and the aura was intoxicating, he hadn't had his head in the game.
Scott muttered, "Why is it dying?"
"Pretty sure all living things do." Scott will adamantly deny how high he jumped. It was Not ten feet, he'll say, he wasn't scared at all, he'll say.
He giggled nervously. "Oh gosh. You-phew, wow-you really scared me!" Nom smiled. "That was the intent," he said shifting his gaze to the plant.
“You come here often?" Scott smiled, softly, looking around the room. "Yeah. I love plants. Flowers, preferably. I uh— i wanted to be a florist," he said. Something about this man really made him become loose lipped.
Nom nodded, faintly. "That's cool. This uh—flower, looks…dead." Scott frowned. He moved the flower crown on his head, taking a step closer to the raised bed. He crouched down, becoming level with the leaves.
"Noo, he's just a sad guy right now," Scott said, touching the flower. Nom laughed, a hearty, full sound. "Do you always personify them?" Scott stood up, flushing.
"So what if I do?" Nom grinned. He took a step around the room, looking at the different plants and names, giving them all a look over, when he came back to the Dahlia. "Hm. Yeah, this is the only one that looks dead—"
"it's not dead"
Nom ignored his interruption, continuing on with his thought. "—they're all in really good shape. At least I think so. I am not a florist, by any means." He looked at Scott, looking surprised for a moment, and fond, which did in fact, not, definitely not, make Scott's heart flutter.
“Are you the only one who takes care of the plants in here?" Scott beamed, feeling proud. "Yeah! I love it in here." He turned his attention back to the flower, tilting his head.
"It has the same soil and water content… maybe it just needs a little more." He looked around, not spotting the watering can.
“Here," Nom said, handing Scott the object.
"Thanks," Scott stuttered out, decidedly not stressing over the point where their hands touched for a moment. He slowly poured more water into the soil of the plant, watching it soak up. "Maybe that'll do the trick."
~0~
The next day, he went back to the garden. The dahlia was fresh, bright, springing upright and happy.
That's how he felt around Nom, too.