Work Text:
Ralsei found Flowery like that—arms bent at an angle, hands wrapped around his own neck, fingers resting lightly against his throat, his eyes closed. He was lying back against his pillows, his golden hair fanned out, his breathing slow and even. The afternoon light caught the faint lines on his face, the shadows under his eyes.
He looked almost peaceful.
Ralsei stopped in the doorway. They had come to change his bandages, to check on the wound that was finally healing, but they hesitated. Flowery's hands were still, not squeezing, not pressing—just resting. But still, there was something vulnerable about it, something dangerous.
"Flowery," Ralsei said, making their presence known.
Flowery's eyes opened—slow, gold, unfocused. "Raly."
"What are you doing?"
Flowery looked at his own hands, then back at Ralsei. "Self-soothing," he said. His voice was quiet, without its usual theatrical edge. "As a flower, I have a center—a core. Petals surround it. It felt safe. Protected." He paused. "I'm trying to recreate that feeling."
Ralsei stepped closer, setting down the fresh bandages on the bedside table. "With your hands around your neck?"
"My neck is the center," Flowery said. "My hands are the petals."
Ralsei looked at his hands—its long, graceful fingers.
"Does it work?" Ralsei asked.
Flowery's smile was thin. "Mostlys,” he said, including a voice clip.
“Doesn’t it get tiring to hold your arms up like that?"
"Yes,” he said.
Ralsei considered this. They looked at his neck, and then at their own paws. "Let me try," Ralsei said, in a bid for Flowery to lower his arms after he had been holding them up for who knows how long.
Flowery met their gaze and nodded. His hands dropped to his sides.
Ralsei approached. Their paws were warm, softer than Flowery's hands. They reached out and placed them around his neck, like a collar or a ring, over his Adam’s apple—gently, barely touching. Not squeezing. Just holding.
Flowery's eyes closed.
Ralsei could feel his pulse beneath their paws, quick and steady. The warmth of his skin. The slight tremor that ran through him.
Ralsei stood there for a moment, their arms held out, paws wrapped around Flowery’s neck, wondering if this substitution would work.
Flowery's breath hitched. Ralsei felt his pulse jump under their paws. His cheeks turned pink. It wasn't relaxing him. It was doing the opposite.
They pulled back.
“I don’t think it’s working,” Ralsei said.
Flowery exhaled slowly. His eyes opened.
They stood there for a moment, the silence between them heavy with things unsaid.
Then Ralsei said: "I'll make you something."
—
Ralsei's room was quiet.
They gathered their materials—soft fabric, bright and golden, like the color of Flowery's form. A needle. Golden thread. Scissors. They had never made anything like this before, but they knew what they wanted to create.
They worked quickly to make something that could relieve Flowery’s arms, stitching the fabric into a curved shape. A C, open at the front. One continuous piece, not separate, not divided. They stuffed it gently, making sure it was soft but supportive, capable of applying a gentle pressure with its presence.
And then they shaped the bumps—curved, like petals. They stitched golden thread along the edges, turning it into something that looked almost like a ring of petals.
When they finished, they held it up. It was simple. Imperfect. But it was what Flowery needed.
—
Flowery was still propped against his pillows when Ralsei returned. His hands were wrapped around his neck again. His eyes were closed, but he opened them when Ralsei stepped through the door.
"Raly," he said.
Ralsei approached, the pillow in their paws. "I made you this."
Flowery looked at it. A C-shaped neck pillow, one continuous piece, with curved golden bumps along its surface. It looked like a ring of petals.
Ralsei stammered an explanation, only wondering if they had overstepped after the fact. “…shaped like petals, you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to."
“Put it on for me,” Flowery said, lowering his hands.
Ralsei reached out and placed it around his neck.
The pillow settled against his skin, a soft pressure. It curled around his throat, just holding. The curved bumps mimicked the shape of petals.
Flowery's breath caught.
For a moment, he didn't move. Then his shoulders dropped. His head tilted back. His eyes closed.
"It's perfect," he said. His voice was barely above a whisper.
Ralsei watched him relax. The tension left his face, his neck, his shoulders.
"I can feel it," Flowery said. His voice was soft, almost surprised. "The petals."
Ralsei didn't say anything. They just watched.
Flowery's hands remained at his sides.
"I don't need my hands anymore," he said. "I have this."
Ralsei nodded. "Yes."
Flowery opened his eyes. They were gold and steady, looking at Ralsei. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Ralsei said.
Later, they made a second one for swapping out with the original, due to Flowery’s refusal to part with the neck pillow even when it needed to be washed.