"They're supposed to get pretty tall! We could make everything all shady... It's summertime, it's perfect for lazy naps in the shade."
A smile is slowly working its way across his face as he envisions it. The whole temple surrounded by sunflowers. Not the just Sunny and the ones in the seed packets, but surely if they give the flowers a good start, they'll spread themselves.
"Forever" is just a dream, of course. Even if she can't die again, shinki come and go like Shin-ah did. He might be the one to go, even though the idea of leaving her behind instead is too painful to even contemplate.
But sometimes he likes to dream. He likes the idea of this quiet little corner of heaven, overgrown with sunflowers, more and more every year, for as many years as they can spend together. Of course, they might not even get enough time for one to sprout... but he supposes that's why he got the one in the pot. A bit of cheat, a hopeful prophecy.
Aah. Maybe it was a love gift after all? More romantic than he intended? Why were cut flowers romantic gifts, anyway? As pretty as they were, they were short-lived things, known to be dying, and all of the stopgaps like vases of water were just that-- stopgaps sure to fail. Why didn't people give their sweethearts seeds, meant to be nurtured until bloomed, or potted flowers, starting a new life in new soil?
Well. He supposes he can't fault himself too much. Her memory and her love were far and away the highlights of his life between dragon warrior gatherings. If you spend two thousand years remembering someone as your wife, it's a hell of an adjustment to not treat her that way.
It can't hurt anyone too much, if it's just gifts...
no subject
A smile is slowly working its way across his face as he envisions it. The whole temple surrounded by sunflowers. Not the just Sunny and the ones in the seed packets, but surely if they give the flowers a good start, they'll spread themselves.
"Forever" is just a dream, of course. Even if she can't die again, shinki come and go like Shin-ah did. He might be the one to go, even though the idea of leaving her behind instead is too painful to even contemplate.
But sometimes he likes to dream. He likes the idea of this quiet little corner of heaven, overgrown with sunflowers, more and more every year, for as many years as they can spend together. Of course, they might not even get enough time for one to sprout... but he supposes that's why he got the one in the pot. A bit of cheat, a hopeful prophecy.
Aah. Maybe it was a love gift after all? More romantic than he intended? Why were cut flowers romantic gifts, anyway? As pretty as they were, they were short-lived things, known to be dying, and all of the stopgaps like vases of water were just that-- stopgaps sure to fail. Why didn't people give their sweethearts seeds, meant to be nurtured until bloomed, or potted flowers, starting a new life in new soil?
Well. He supposes he can't fault himself too much. Her memory and her love were far and away the highlights of his life between dragon warrior gatherings. If you spend two thousand years remembering someone as your wife, it's a hell of an adjustment to not treat her that way.
It can't hurt anyone too much, if it's just gifts...