Thank you for taking the time to review, I'm glad other people love the ClivexFlora ship as much as I do :3 ~ nellen x

"So I remembered to find you when I got out."

"What the hell Clive!?"

"Well," he sighed, looking around as he tried to think of a way to word it. "Well, I... I couldn't let myself forget you, a-and this was... I was gonna end it all, you know? But... But knowing I had to say sorry to you stopped me. This was the closest I..." he trailed off, realising he'd upset Flora. "Uh, needless to say it doesn't glow when I'm happy," he laughed nervously, a failed attempt to lighten the mood.

"Do they hurt?"

"Wh-what?" He mumbled, and she repeated herself a little louder.

"The scars, do they hurt?" She bit her lip as her fingers traced the faint marks, her question answered as he flinched.

"Just the top one, the stalk if you will, it um... Well um... It's more recent- oh no you're crying!" He yelped, desperately trying to think of something to stop the tears that trickled down her cheeks. He hurriedly began to brush them away, lifting her chin to face him. It was the look in her eyes that got to him, a pitiful look. A disappointed look.

"I promise, I'll be ok. Please don't cry sweetheart, please," he whispered, fighting back tears of his own. He had missed her so much from behind bars, like a whole in his heart, and seeing her so upset bothered him more than he had prepared for.

"Ok," she sniffed; wiping her eyes on her, well his, sleeve. "You're coat smells really nice, by the way."

"Wait, you went from tears to 'your coat smells nice' just like that?" He laughed in disbelief, "I mean, I hate seeing you cry, it's just-"

"It's just a talent," she giggled, wiping her eyes again, "I've always been good at subject changes."

"Well I'm certainly glad of it," and glad he was. He didn't think he could take her crying much longer, not without joining in himself.

"Speaking of talents, when did you become a singer?" She mused, fingers dancing across the wooden table. "A good singer."

"Busker," Clive corrected, "and to be honest I'm not quite sure. My cellmate used to sing a lot, and one time I joined in and he told me how good I was, and how, 'with a voice like that' I'd do well in the world outside. Well that was a load of balls."

"It wasn't really," Flora frowned at his tone, "I mean, you are really good, and you seem to be getting quite a bit for a busker."

"What was that?" He asked, "I mean, sorry, I didn't catch that."

"You get a lot of money considering you're not actually professional and such."

"No, the first thing."

"Oh," the girl smiled, cheeks a rosy pink, "I said you are really good. Really really good."

Clive returned her blush and smile, "thanks." He wasn't really sure why, but her compliment made his heart thud a little faster.

"No bother," she smiled curtly, gazing back down at her hands.

They sat for a moment in silence, and both would have been happy enough staying that way, if it wasn't for Clive's stomach.
"Sorry," he mumbled with a sheepish grin after it growled hungrily, "I didn't really eat much last night."

"I can't imagine you would have out here, oh please stay at mine tonight! I hate thinking of you sleeping on the streets," she begged, determined to make sure he would be safe. He stared for a moment into her wide brown eyes. It broke his heart to say no.

"I'm sorry, just, not yet," he whispered, dropping his gaze and staring at his feet. "I just can't."

She bit her lip, face twisting into a frown, "at least let me buy you something to eat or a coffee or something."

"Well, a coffee would be nice," he admitted, prompting her to stand up beside him.

"Come on then, coffee it is," she beamed, taking him by the arm and dragging him away from the square.