A/N: BASED OFF THE AMAZING KEYDIMA'S ART ON TUMBLR IF YOU'RE NOT FOLLOWING KEY YOU'RE LIKE MISSING AN INTEGRAL PART OF LIFE DUDE
He might have missed her if not for the blue jeans.
"What're you doing?"
Rebecca pats the space beside her absently, slipping a dandelion crown over her head. Weisz quirks a brow but complies, dropping to his stomach and wrinkling his nose at the feel of crushed weeds beneath him. There are a lot of reasons to hate the stupid things - they're invasive, they make him sneeze, they look weird when they're pollinating - but the fact that they remain perpetually damp, even when the sun's beating down on them so hard the back of his neck is burnt, never ceases to annoy him. It makes for the worst kind of stains.
"It just seemed like a nice day to relax with the flowers," Rebecca chirps, shooting him a smile like a hollow-point through his heart. He can blame his sudden flush on the sun.
"Weeds, princess," Weisz says, plucking one and twisting it in his grasp. "These are weeds. Really, really annoying weeds. If you wanted flowers, you could've asked, you know. I'll get you a bouquet every day of the week."
She ignores him and takes the weed out of his hand, slipping it behind his ear. The shiver is easy to hide - goosebumps not so much.
"They're not weeds, Weisz, they're flowering plants. They're so important for the ecosystem! Because they're pretty much the first things to sprout, and they're generalists, a lot of pollinating species-"
He tunes her out then, allowing the increasing pitch of her voice to filter through his ears. He'll register what she says, even if he only recalls the details a few days later, but watching her get excited is his favourite past-time, even if she thinks it's kissing.
Everyone talks about blind men seeing the sun for the first time: how dazzling it must be, how the world must look with all these shadows, with the light bouncing off everywhere. Do they know what looking at Rebecca is like, then? The way the sun pulls out the silken highlights to her hair, or how, when she tilts her head just right, her eyes go from deep-ocean blue to early-morning cyan? There are soft dimples on her cheeks and he wants to kiss them so very badly, just to see, once more, that they're perfectly shaped for his lips.
She laughs at something, patting the crown on her head, and the light does something to her expression - bounces off the already bright dandelions, maybe - that reminds him of molten gold and he's drowning.
"You didn't listen to a thing I said, huh?" Rebecca raises a brow knowingly.
"Nah, I was just imagining what sex with you on a flowerbed would be like," Weisz lies, bracing himself for a smack on the shoulder.
She presses a finger to his lips instead, doing the same to herself. "Do you know why I like dandelions, Weisz?"
He shakes his head. He doesn't trust himself to speak. Not when his chest feels all weird like this, like the dandelions have taken root in his lungs and breathing is all funny.
"They're so resilient. They grow pretty much everywhere, even in places plants shouldn't, and they don't need any care. They just exist and thrive, all on their own. When their time is up, they let the wind carry them a million ways." Rebecca's eyes soften then, not quite meeting his. "People think they're weeds. I think they're a lot more like stars, you know?"
He grazes the back of her hand with his fingertips and when she doesn't draw back, Weisz holds her hand and guides it to lie against his cheek, pressing a barely-there kiss to her wrist on the way. Her pulse flutters under his lips and he smiles a little. "Do they remind you of yourself? 'Cause that's dead on, princess."
"No, dummy. They remind me of us, kinda. Sure we're not gonna explode and scatter all over in tiny pieces, but I think everything else…" she shrugs, "I think it fits us."
"In that I'm stubborn and even if you try and get rid of me I'm coming back with a vengeance?" Weisz says, "Because that's bang on. Stars and stardust. Dandelions and dandelion puff. Rebecca and Weisz."
"Wouldn't have it any other way."
Weisz holds up a small bouquet of dandelions. "Dandelions for my dandelion?"
"Oh, so I'm your dandelion now? What happened to 'princess'?"
He taps her crown. "Princess of the dandelions." He kisses the corner of her mouth, smiling into her petal soft skin. "Queen of my heart."