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#( words unspoken: lamon. )
ofgentleresolve · 1 year
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@wellfell sent in: the plant looked half dead , rooted deep in the pot that she held between her arms and knocked on his door . his roommate was away ( thankfully , she couldn't explain her teary eyes to anyone - didn't explain it to lamon either ) , only commanded him to ' bring it back to life ! ' it's dying , no matter what she does , where she puts it and how much water it takes , her mother's flowers are dying . she told anita she'll take care of it , but nothing's working and on the way to lamon's apartment , her tears were finally free to roll down her cheeks . it's dying , it's dying . . . ❛ i didn't do anything to it . it just won't live . ❜ she says , a little angry , despite how her voice trembles . it's been weeks since she was keeping it in and hiding any traces of sorrow from anita , and telling her to simply let go too . but a dead flower was this cherry on top of cocktail of her troubles , she couldn't squeeze any more anger and fear and sadness inside her chest anymore . she aggressively points at the flower she's put on the counter of the kitchen , lamon following after her silently . tips of fingers wet with her tears . she hisses helplessly ; ❛ you're a biology teacher , aren't you ? do something . ❜ || he'd give up sleep 4 her ( unprompted. )
There’s a reason he doesn’t give plants as presents, ever. Not as home warming presents, not as birthday gifts, regardless of the person. A plant is like a small child, complete with its unique needs ranging from potting to watering schedules to sunlight requirements. Most people don’t care to see to all of them, let alone try to look for the signs. They say that plants are difficult to care, but in Lam’s eyes, it’s really because they don’t try to understand plants and their hidden language.
Hell, Lam’s been caring for them for years and he’s still learning the ins and outs of this is unspoken set of words.
Still, when it’s Akina knocking on his door at god-knows-what hour, he bites his tongue back. Not because of the hour ( because everyone knows, himself included, he’s not one to turn away a person in need, especially her ), but because this is what happens when someone who doesn’t know about plants tries to keep one. Wilted flowers- precious or not, a memento or just a decoration.
That and she’s crying. There’s no reason for him to make her feel worse about herself; he wouldn’t want to anyways.
( Akina always looks prettier when she’s happy. Or however much happiness she can summon these days. )
And besides, isn’t that the point of being a teacher? To fill in the gaps of knowledge where they maybe not be evident to the student. Eyes still bleary, he pushes off the frame of the door. “Let me see.” He reaches out, taking the pot with her mother’s flowers from her before using his bad arm to catch one of the tears in the corner of her eye. “Tissues are on the counter.”
Not that that’s where he’ll be working for this. Although it is probably a good thing that Ray is on the midnight shift at the diner today. Lamon can’t imagine how he would explain this to his roommate: his slightly ( okay very teary ) friend knocking on their door past midnight.
He takes her to the greenhouse on the roof, where he flicks the lamp light on- he’s still inclined to the darkness at the moment. Electric lights aren’t great for his insomnia, according to his doctor anyways. Setting the pot down, he pulls up a spare stool for her before turning back to the pot. He lifts it, for a moment- it’s a solid bottom. Frowning, he grabs a trowel and scoops a bit of the topsoil out and rolls some between his fingers. It’s DAMP, as if recently watered. She said she hasn’t done anything to it, has she?
Well if she really hasn’t done anything to help it, then she wouldn’t be here in the first place. Pulling his gloves on, he gets to work and carefully excavates the flowers and their roots entangled in the soil. The closer he gets, the farther the stone in his stomach sinks.
She’s not going to like THIS NEWS.
He eyes her for a moment, nervously before looking back at the plant. Sometimes it’s tricky, knowing what exactly makes her tick, a strange combination of stoic and emotional. In a way, he reminds him of Robin- that volatility, the unpredictability that makes the laws of science turn in on their heads. And then he decides, fuck it- the truth’s gotta come out at some point.
“You have root rot,” he explains. “Happens when there isn’t proper drainage for the plant.” He taps the pot she bring in. “This isn’t a good pot- see the bottom? There’s no hole at the bottom so the water can’t get out; it doesn’t matter how much sunlight it gets. The roots aren’t getting enough air, which encourages root rot.” He glances over at the flowers, wilted beneath the light. Wilted- it doesn’t have much longer. “The roots are too mushy so it’s too late this one but-“ He places something in her hand.
A germinated seed.
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Another chance. It must have come from the flowers some time before they had wilted. He smiles slightly, folding her fingers over it. “I found this in your soil. Why don’t you plant it here? I’ll give you one of my pots to take home too.”
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ofgentleresolve-a · 3 years
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lamon chupong. 23. high school teacher.
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ofgentleresolve-a · 3 years
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raphael hua-jie wei. 26. line cook.
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