i love flowers, so this prompt on the kink meme really inspired me. here's another installment.
Jack's hands moved in a soothing motion: up and down, floating closer and farther away from the vase like he was fluffing an invisible pillow. The tendrils of a vine started to snake out from the stem, and he hastily halted that sequence of movements. He didn't want a jungle, after all. Changing his motions to those like an orchestra conductor's, flowing this way and that, the petal finally began to expand. When the blossom was complete it was a beautiful, white, solid, and translucent near the ends of the leaves. It unfolded like a moonflower to his gentle coaxing.
The winter spirit sighed as the flower finished, stamen poking out from the center. An entire bouquet of those was difficult to make when he was at full power, but after that incident on the beach everything seemed harder. It had been nearly three years and he still wasn't back to normal. This wasn't really surprising-he had almost been completely melted when the Guardians retrieved him.
Ah well, he released another breath, moving on to the next vase. After years of refusing the invitation, Pitch and he had decided to go to Santoff Clausen for the annual Spirits' Christmas Party. It was held on Boxing Day so Santa would have time to prepare and sleep off the previous night.
The problem wasn't that they were going-it was important to make friends even after all the years of no communication-but that Pitch had only told him this morning that they were going. The party was in two days. Which meant that Jack had to make at least enough bouquets for the hosts of the party.
After the lovely ranunculus flowers were placed in their vase (even more draining, holy crap) he sat down for a rest. His pillow seat in the atrium sat below a large wall. Every few feet on the wall was another seat set into the countertop where his flowers sat, everything below the bright sun shining through the expanse of windows that made up the upper part of said wall. Outside the snow was thick, as usual in the arctic, and would nearly blind anyone else who looked outside. Pitch would never come inside during the day, which explained why he hadn't been to see him yet.
The wind came in through the opened jalousie windows, blowing freezing air onto his creations. That was good. They didn't have chance of melting, anyway, because though he and Pitch had a fireplace, they never used it. They preferred the freezing temperature of their home. Jack had wanted picture windows originally, or those lovely Chinese ornate ones with all the spirals and gilt or wrought iron, but his partner had always had a thing for those Italians and the Venetian style of the jalousie was his piece in the room.
Oh how time flies. The sun was going down when Jack's eyes reopened from their 'resting' position. That meant that soon Pitch would be leaving for the night-maybe he could convince him to take Jack with him.
The orange light of a dying day made his flowers look red, and some shone violet in the corners. They were oh so pretty; he almost hated that he was giving them away. They had taken so long to create, so much energy and care put into each little petal and every fragile leaf.
Jack walked over to the last of the vases, the fifth one, and started to fill it with Pitch's favorite flower. The Helleborus was just perfect, really. Even its name said 'Winter Dreams Black'. It was violet-black in its natural form, but Jack would have to have Pitch give his special flowers a special touch before they became even remotely similar. They were very delicate, but one of his tougher flowers once done. Their petals curved lusciously upward when he made them, searching for sunlight they didn't actually need.
A draft flowed through the room, ruffling his hair but doing hardly much else to the spirit of winter. Jack felt more than saw the Nightmare King coming up behind him, wrapping his arms around him. Though they were wrapped loosely, Jack knew he wouldn't be able to twist away from his mate. He mostly ignored Pitch until the flowers were complete, the sun having disappeared moment before.
Grey fingers reached out and gently touched the petals of each flower, spreading glorious blackness throughout the flowers in all the right places. When the coloring was done, Jack turned around and smiled at Pitch, finally setting his hands on the other's lone one resting on his hip.
review/favorite/follow and stuff if you like :) check out the meme and fill something! there are so many good prompts that are just sitting untouched.