#CLASSIC ERA VERSE TAG TBA.

[greenhillguy]

taps him on the shoulder. he slowly unveils what's in his palm: a freshly blossomed stem of blue-purple bells, the shade of his quills in the sun. "delphinium."

THEY'RE SO SOFT I'M GOING TO EXPLODE

what's really impressive about shadow is how he's able to find flowers sonic's never even seen on the island. maybe they weren't here before -- maybe they dropped to earth the same way shadow did, a fiery trail tailing them in the sky before crashing down, planting themselves, seeds and sprouts of shooting stars. he hopes they've all bloomed as good as the delphinium has, as good as shadow has.

he takes the stem, gloved fingers delicate as he holds it up to his face, wide eyes committing the shape and hue to memory. sonic wants to recognize this if he sees it again, wants to catalog all the places he finds it so he can show shadow later. see, i was paying attention? see, i like it when you share things with me? see, i care what you have to show me?

as sonic's holding the stem, a loosened bud breaks off, dropping into his hand. it may look like a bell but it falls onto his palm without a sound. perturbed, sonic frowns for a moment, pinching the petals between his fingers.

the mood only lasts for a moment as sonic's face alights. leaning forward, the tips of their noses almost touching, sonic nestles the flower amongst the finer quills at the top of shadow's head. there the bud is secure and unblemished, a spot of blue on his forehead like a kiss.

there, he signs, looking altogether too pleased with himself. we match.