Once, Twice Down The Road

It was excitement that shook Emil’s hands as he tried to carefully arrange the flowers he’d pressed for Tate. It’d taken quite a bit of trial and error (and error and error and well, you get the point) to get them neatly dried and pressed, and the compost bin outside was a testament to exactly how many flowers had given their lives to the craft. Nevertheless, the pressed flowers would look wonderful in his good (very good? It’d be nice if Tate thought they were very good friends) friend Tate’s many scrapbooks, aside pictures and nice little doodles on the edges. Maybe even aside doodles of the same flowers, wouldn’t that be nice? The elemental set them in nice little rows in a nice little flat bag, to bring to his very good friend, stopping only to grab his coat (and search for his coat, as It was already upon him) before heading out the door.

-

Tate had seen a very nice bluebell out in a field at exactly seven thirty-five in the morning. It was now a bit past noon, and he was no longer able to find any more of these colorful and very beautiful wildflowers. It was equally likely that he’d picked all of them in all the world, but, he had stopped and been stopped from the sheer volume of vividly colored blooms that now wholly obscured his vision of anything but the ground directly beneath his feet to keep him from tripping as he went about still wandering about for more flowers for nearly another twenty minutes.

It was only when he found none that he decided to begin the figuring out of what to do with so many blooms. The first had been intended as a compliment to Lamar’s cooler appearance (and demeanor) but it was highly unlikely that he'd take this many flowers in this many colors. He considered a bowl or a vase, but, he had no use for this many flowers in as many vases as they’d surely take. Emil however, was the perfect recipient of flowers, as he both deserved as many flowers as Tate could find and supposedly had been working on some sort of project that had warranted nearly fifty-dozen flowers over the course of the past two weeks. Emil would be perfect – now to see if he could navigate his way to Emil past all these flowers.

-

With both men now upon the road towards one another, it was a perfect opportunity to save both their legs some walking. Not that the opportunity was taken up or noticed or in fact an opportunity at all. They had seen one another, of course, but each had not actually seen the other at all. Emil saw only a figure much like Tate carrying much too many flowers, but, felt the dread of saying hello to someone and risking it not actually being the person he said hello to, and having to explain why he’d made the mistake, and having to somehow extract himself from the conversation without being rude (and that was only the beginning). Tate, meanwhile, saw exactly nothing past the wall of flowers in his arms and did not know he passed another person, and did not know to say hello to them (he would feel awfully rude about that, later, if he knew). Of course, having passed one another on the road, it shouldn’t have been a surprise when both found that the other wasn’t home.

-

Emil, happening upon Tate’s home, was told that he wasn’t home by Lamar and had the door promptly shut on him. He of course, went home to hold onto the pressed flowers for another day, and was back upon the road nearly as quickly as he’d left it.

Tate knocked on the door, waited for several minutes, and then headed back on the road to go give his trove of flowers to whoever he happened upon on the road.

-

On the road again, both once more had a grand opportunity to save themselves some walking (which was much needed, as both their legs would have been tired, in a less-strange world). Once again, the opportunity was at first missed, as Emil had no more recognition than before and no less hesitance to risk it being a stranger. Tate, however, did see the tip of a shoe this time around and took his chance.

“Would you like some flowers?” he asked, though it was less question and more exclamation.

“Tate?” Emil asked, more certain it was his good good friend now that the voice matched too.

“Emil! I just tried to go by to give you these!” Tate said, hefting the inordinate amount of blooms aloft and outward, towards Emil’s hands.

“Oh goodness. Thank you!” the elemental said, mind reeling with how kind the gesture was and what in all the realms he might do with this many flowers. They were shoved into his arms, though Emil had the sense to hold them lower so he could still see. The blooms instead wreathed his face, with the bluebells matching his cheeks and the centers of the daisies matching the centers of his eyes. Tate thought it was a rather lovely coincidence.

“I brought you a gift too,” Emil eventually blurted out as Tate admired the coincidence.

“I’ve got it in my pocket if I could just,” he struggled to reach his pockets around the armful of flowers, relieved when Tate retrieved the small pouch of pressed flowers from his front coat pocket for him.

“These are lovely” Tate exclaimed, admiring them one by one and being quite careful with the delicate blossoms.

“I made them for your scrapbooks,” Emil explained, smiling at seeing his friend enjoying the little gift he’d made.

“Thank you! You really are lovely; you doing this is quite lovely; the gift is quite lovely, I mean,” Tate fumbled around in the joy of the moment. The two stood there smiling for quite some time before eventually going home, all the while paying no mind to being very much in the way if anyone had come down the road.