#the plants in that garden were plastic and that was when my hatred for fake plants started

[stormy-nights-are-best]

Is this kind of friendship even allowed?

[apocalypsewriters]

I did hint at writing here, and look! I followed through. I used this prompt, so enjoy the hurt comfort featuring Fera and Nala

“You don’t have to talk, we can just sit together.” Fera enveloped her girlfriend in a hug. Nala melted into her embrace as she succumbed to her silent sobs.

To anyone else, Nala could have passed as content. She was capable of masking her emotions and could do it well. No one could have seen her as cheery, but none but Fera would have sensed the turmoil underneath. Nala felt surprisingly small in her arms for someone usually so big and confident. Her normally self-assured stature was completely compromised; earlier that day her shoulders had been hunched in a plush hoodie. Anyone who knew her well might be able to read her sadness, although they couldn’t know the acuteness of the feeling. It was enough to make Fera stumble as she had skipped over to greet Nala that morning. Nala had straightened up quickly and plastered on a smile. They both knew that Fera was well aware of how awful Nala was feeling, but silently, they agreed to confront it later.

It had finally spilled over at lunchtime; Nala had pulled Fera aside from the garden and led her to a secluded spot in the school. The nook was picturesque, with fake grass cushioning Fera as she leaned against the live oak tree, basked in dappled sunlight. Fera watched the clouds move through the leaves, trying to anchor herself in the world. Nala’s emotions were an ocean, wave after wave crashing over her. Grief. Anger. Frustration. Hatred. Sadness. She struggled to stay afloat, knowing what would happen if she lost control. She rubbed Nala’s back slowly, relishing in the cloth fibers’ consistent texture on her skin. She let her fingers glide down her spine, tracing each ridge and steadying her thoughts and the emotions under her control. Slowly, Nala’s breathing leveled out, becoming measured and rhythmic.

“I’m so sorry. I hate to burden you. This must be so unbearable.” Nala’s apology was muffled by Fera’s cardigan-clad side. Her voice was quiet and raw with emotion.

Fera stroked her fingers through the dark curls, being careful to not get snagged. “You’re never a bother to me. For you, I could bear the weight of the sky. Besides,” she reassured, “I’ve felt worse. Do you want to tell me about it?”

Nala shook her head, her curls tickling Fera’s wrist.

“Okay. How about I tell you about my day?”

Fera felt the thrum of Nala’s agreement on her palm.

“Well, I woke up today to find Vera having a crisis with one of her plants. The flowers were wilting on one of them since its flowering season was over, but since she knows next to nothing about plants, no thanks to me, she was worried it was dying. Goodness knows why she hasn’t asked me before.” She paused, then said, “On second thought, I think that was one of Madelyn’s. I guess she didn’t want to ask for her help so it wouldn’t make her look bad.” She chuckled. Vera’s dedication to Madelyn was very sweet and made her prone to many comedic moments. “And when I got to school today, it was a bit of a roller coaster. I got to see my favorite person in the world.” She kissed Nala’s near-black hair. “But something ruined their day. So I’ve been a little distracted plotting to destroy whatever upset her.” Nala huffed as the tide of emotions ebbed. “And during lunch, I did busy work in the school gardens. Just weeding and turning soil.” Fera turned Nala’s head gently to gaze at her face. The intensity of her deep chocolate brown eyes never failed to floor her, but it broke her heart to see the roaring spirit behind them reduced to a barely flickering candle. Her eyelashes were clumped together with tears and her eyes were puffy. Fera planted a kiss on Nala’s forehead. “And then a beautiful girl invited me to a grove to let me do what I yearned to do all day. And that is to do anything I can to fix your problems. Be that listening to you venting, distracting you with my garbage storytelling of my average day, or just keeping you company as you collect yourself again."

Nala’s eyes softened, and Fera felt an almost imperceptible warm glow grow in her chest. She felt her cheeks redden to match.

“Thank you, my fairy,” Nala rasped, her throat still hoarse from crying.

Fera sprung up suddenly. “Just give me a minute!” she called over her shoulder as she dashed out of the area.

The rhythmic pounding of her feet against concrete was comforting as she ran through the school grounds. Reaching her bag by the gardening shed, she pulled out her reusable water bottle and started making her way back. Despite her comforting words to Nala, it was nice to be free of the intense emotions. She wasn’t lying when she’d promised to uphold the sky, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy peace for a few moments. Taking a breath of air, relishing in its clarity, she picked up her pace, eager to get back and spend more time with her girlfriend.

Tossing the bottle clumsily towards Nala’s still prone form on the plastic grass, Fera sagged in relief as she expertly caught the bottle. Nala twisted it open and took a long drink, sighing contentedly when she came up for air.

“Thank you again, sunflower. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Nala’s voice was a little clearer after the water, much to Fera’s delight.

Fera smiled warmly as she sat back down next to Nala. “Well, we both know it’s a mutual thing. And you know you don’t have to thank me.” She pulled Nala in for another hug. “Do you want to talk about it now? Or is it still too fresh?” Fera amended her question as Nala’s emotions reared once again.

“Maybe later.” Nala nuzzled into Fera’s shoulder, almost knocking her over. “Can I come with you to your next class?”

Fera giggled and pushed her away a little, stooping down to look nose to nose at each other, their foreheads pressed together. “Well, as smart as you are, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to miss class.”

 “I don’t want to leave you though,” Nala whined pitifully. 

A peal of laughter broke out as Fera caved. “Okay, okay. I have study hall next, so I’ll go ask my teacher if I can be out of the classroom.” The potentially overwhelming emotion from her teacher was made worth it to see joy bloom on Nala’s face.

“Promise?”

“I promise.” Fera punctuated her sentence with a tender kiss. “If you let me go now, we can walk to class together.”

“Hurry back, okay?”

“Of course.”

[wallwriterstuff]

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

It was all he could think from the moment he woke to a cold and empty bed, the only thought that haunted him throughout the day as he tried and failed to put his life back together, the tidal wave that drowned him into sleep every night.

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

She had had so much life left to live. The peonies were a new addition to the garden and she'd tended them dutifully, nurtured them to the point he'd joked she cared more for them than for him. He'd sat for hours when the call came through, staring at wilted petals and rotten stems, a symbolic representation of his life now without the beauty and stability she provided him.

It wasn't supposed to end like this!

They were supposed to have years left to retire! To grow old, to watch their grandchildren from the front porch, to bicker over the neighbours choice in paint colour for their garden fence. She was supposed to still be with him. He wasn't supposed to place the tulips she loved so much against a cold stone while she left him far, far behind.

He wished he could change it. He wished he had been there to drive her home from her mothers - the old bats hatred of him be damned. Maybe if he had taken the wheel instead...he knew she hated driving in the rain and the summer storm that had been predicted swept in and out with the force of a typhoon in a matter of hours, sweeping his beloved wife away with it as quickly as it had arrived. If only he'd paid more attention to the forecast.

It had taken years to accept she was gone, years to piece his life back together to resemble something akin to normalcy. Then one morning it happened, the miracle he'd been dreaming of. The garden was alive! He was greeted that morning by dew drops on vibrant green grass, an array of reds and golds and purples and oranges carpeting his once desolate lawn. His briefcase dropped to the floor, getting to work now the last thing on his mind as he fell to his knees by her beloved tulips and tenderly reached for the petals.

They were so...fake. Fabric petals on plastic stems.

"What is this?" He whispered to himself.

"Our garden, my love." Her voice was a chiming bell on the wind, as soft and pleasant on his ears as it had been on the day they met. There was barely a scratch on her, her body pristine and her skin almost luminescent. He wanted to reach for her, feared she'd disappear.

They sat together on the porch, looking out over the colourful garden as she explained she had planted it all when she first came here. His face fell into a frown.

"Wait. If i'm here then...then..."

"You had a heart attack this morning before you woke up. I told you those greasy sandwiches would be the death of you." She said with a sad smile. He had the grace to look sheepish.

"You were right. You were right about a lot of things that I never gave you credit for. But why...why are the flowers plastic, my love? Fake flowers? What are you trying to tell me?" He asked, fearing he would be separated from her again if the flowers were symbolic of a fake love. Had all their fights driven her away? A small smile graced her face, her hand cupping his cheek.

"Plastic flowers never die, never wilt, never fade. I planted them so we could enjoy our love without worrying about the little things. We were at our best when we weren't worrying about making the flowers wilt. I want us to be that carefree again. If you'll stay with me now?"

"An eternity with you?" He pretended to think before leaning in and kissing her softly. "I can think of nothing I want more." He felt her smile against his lips, ignored the voices trying to call him back and settled in his wife's embrace. She was right. Things were a lot easier when you weren't worrying about the little things, and as the sun began to set on their perfect little garden he couldn't help but think that this...this was how it was supposed to end.

When you and your spouse got married, you planted a small garden in commemoration of your love. Over the years you have begun to notice that whenever the garden is thriving your relationship is amazing and loving, and when it wilts you get in fights and don’t talk to each other. One day while your wife is away you see the flowers have completely rotted.