yousei-san (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flair) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
metamorphosis2012-04-25 10:27 pm
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2012-04-25 10:27 pm
Entry tags:
388;
Title: the house of the butterflies
Characters: Spada Belforma, Luca Milda
Rating: G
121/365. dumbshit high school au.
it's beautiful, he thinks.
the greenhouse is large and covered in flowerbeds, although there's a small plot (maybe ten spots length, five spots wide) for him, and he takes in the warm scent before he starts to make his way to his own tiny field and sits by it, touching t he dirt softly. spada hangs behind, watching him, and luca can almost feel the soft teases (“ain't this kind of a girls thing, luca?”) and he doesn't care. it's his own little plot he can use as he wishes – something of his own, without any of his parent's influence – and he digs his fingers into the loose soil, rubbing it between them. the sun streams in hot and heavy through the glass and he's already sweating, not five minutes in the place; he wipes his forehead and sits back on his hands, grinning at spada, who shrugs and smiles (a long, lazy one, easily mistaken for a smirk if it had been anyone but luca) and jerks his head to a side door.
“all the seeds're back there. no one but the gardeners come back here, and they won't mind a few missin' flowers.”
that's all he needs, truth be told. luca stands and tries not to let his excitement show as he peeks into the room and turns on the dim light, searching through the tools and the packets for things to use and things to plant. he feels spada open the door wider and hold it there, waiting for him to step through, just like he's always done.
Characters: Spada Belforma, Luca Milda
Rating: G
121/365. dumbshit high school au.
it's beautiful, he thinks.
the greenhouse is large and covered in flowerbeds, although there's a small plot (maybe ten spots length, five spots wide) for him, and he takes in the warm scent before he starts to make his way to his own tiny field and sits by it, touching t he dirt softly. spada hangs behind, watching him, and luca can almost feel the soft teases (“ain't this kind of a girls thing, luca?”) and he doesn't care. it's his own little plot he can use as he wishes – something of his own, without any of his parent's influence – and he digs his fingers into the loose soil, rubbing it between them. the sun streams in hot and heavy through the glass and he's already sweating, not five minutes in the place; he wipes his forehead and sits back on his hands, grinning at spada, who shrugs and smiles (a long, lazy one, easily mistaken for a smirk if it had been anyone but luca) and jerks his head to a side door.
“all the seeds're back there. no one but the gardeners come back here, and they won't mind a few missin' flowers.”
that's all he needs, truth be told. luca stands and tries not to let his excitement show as he peeks into the room and turns on the dim light, searching through the tools and the packets for things to use and things to plant. he feels spada open the door wider and hold it there, waiting for him to step through, just like he's always done.