A/N: The space between this update and the last one is atrocious. I would say that I have an excellent reason but it's the usual life, studying and... yeah that's about it. Writing's kinda been on the back burner for me ever since starting A-levels. Unfortunately, that probably means this fic isn't gonna get updated much over the next year.

This chapter's been waiting to be posted for a good few months. I'll try and keep updates consistent (cause I wanna finish at least ONE of my fics by the end of 2024). This fic happens to have one of the shorter word counts per chapter, so it's a win-win.

Anyway, I'll cut the rambling now. Hope you're all doing well beyond the screen,

Drama


Quote of the Chapter:

"And things go unsaid soon get forgotten"
― Malorie Blackman, Noughts and Crosses


Chapter Fifty-One: (Lonely) Nights

Years had passed since he was last trusted to be around the product. Enough time for an entire kid to grow had passed since he was in this position, rubber gloves on his hands, hot lamps burning on the back of his neck as he walked around the room, inspecting tiny green plants that were lined across silver-foil-lined trays. In the corner, water would be pumped into a series of tubes, keeping the humidity just right. At the other end, a worker would be at a desk, jotting down orders.

Last time Meliodas had been here, eyes watering from the pungent aroma of the plants, he had just finished secondary - no, college. Eighteen-years-old he had been, more or less in charge of his own little operation. Now he was twenty-six, meant to be far away and retired from this sort of lifestyle, watching over the plants like he was some kind of rookie.

No-one trusted him enough to let him handle the other stuff - not that he could blame them. When he had planned to leave DK high and dry, about half a million sitting in his pockets, he had more or less stabbed the entire organization in the back. And that was excluding what he had done for Zeldris, more or less making his brother as good as dead in DK's eyes.

Being back here definitely wasn't great. Walking around with a watering can, like a toddler helping out in a garden, definitely was degrading. Nevertheless, Meliodas was somewhat glad that his father had him doing the so-called 'easy' stuff. At least here, far away from the true action, he could avoid trouble.

Even though it seemed unlikely that Elizabeth would come back - because she had never really gone this long without at least texting him or something - Meliodas couldn't bring himself to revert to old ways. Even though he felt the itching pull to revert, to become the devilish little shit he was as a teen, he was more or less on his best behaviour.

Every time a thought rang in his mind, every time he considered asking about doing more, he'd think of Elizabeth. He'd think of all the trouble he had caused her, the fact that his own actions had led to the present, and Meliodas would find himself keeping quiet. Content with his little duties, using the Boar Hat to keep busy on the side, he was a good civilian. Almost too good.

But no-one needed to know about that.

"Lonely night again, Meliodas?" Gloxinia, the only one who seemed to still be on talking terms with him, was on plant duty tonight. A fellow mischief-lover, Gloxinia used to be up for whatever trouble Meliodas was willing to cause within the group. Now though, fiddling with the string on his hoodie, almost picking it apart with his nails, he had switched targets, "I heard you're avoiding crowds cause they remind you of Elizabeth."

"Now that's just stupid reasoning," Snorting at the theory, Meliodas sounded more annoyed than amused as he went back to checking the plants. Apparently some of them had been hit with some disease, meaning he had to clip off those leaves and identify the affected plants. "I don't go out because I'm too busy working."

"So you always say," Gloxinia huffed, not seeming to believe his words at all as he spun on the desk chair. Sighing as he came to a stop, now facing the desk and a pen in his hand, he added quietly, "Some things never seem to change, do they?"

Nothing left Meliodas. Instead, seeking comfort in the silence, he tried to mask the spasm of pain that had stabbed his gut at those words. Some things never seem to change. Yeah. Meliodas seemed to be one of those things, forever cycling through good days and bad days that could never just stay one way. One day he'd be happy as hell, unaware to the dull throb of whatever problem was plaguing his mind; the next day he'd be miserable, spreading it along to every person he could.

Change was something Meliodas was incapable of; Elizabeth had proven that. As much as he had tried to change, he attempted to be different for her, it had never worked. Deep down Meliodas King would always be the monster his father had wanted him to be. Getting rid of that part of him, the part raised to take over DK, wasn't possible.

Maybe that was why he kept this dull routine, playing along at being a rookie. Maybe that was why he hadn't tried to do a runner like Zeldris, skip town to another country. Maybe... maybe Meliodas actually wanted to be a part of DK and part of him, deep down, recognised that he had always meant to be there. No matter what he had actually wanted.

"Hey, get off early," Gloxinia was standing beside him now, taking the watering can from Meliodas' hands. Frowning, but not in a scolding way, he groaned, "You're flooding my goods!"

Indeed he was. Deep in his thoughts, absorbed in a reality entirely different from his own, Meliodas had watered the plants enough to last a century. Shaking his head at the muddy pool of water, now about halfway up the tray of plants, Meliodas couldn't help but let out his own little curse. Nothing seemed to be going right today.

"Yeah, you definitely need the night off," Shaking his head, Gloxinia dug into his hoodie pocket before tossing Meliodas something. Which he easily caught despite being dazed. "Consider it a little bonus. You look like you need it."

In his hand was a small little cylinder, familiar and well-known to Meliodas by now. Freshly wrapped and neatly lined, he knew that Gloxinia himself had prepped the joint - because he was known for his good skills with a rizla and any type of filler. But that wasn't what made him pause. No. It was the stark memory hitting his brain, the echo of voices replacing the eerie silence of the room.

"Where did you get it from?" Elizabeth. Blinking, she had asked the question carefully, filled with a cautious kind of curiosity as she studied the rolled up joint in her hands.

Back then, she had been absolutely clueless, so innocent that it was almost to a fault. Raised in the stoic Catholicism of her mother's household, she had never really been exposed to the gritty side of living within London. If anything, she was oblivious to all the different things that lurked around her peaceful bubble of existence. And, honestly, Meliodas found it utterly adorable.

"Gloxinia," Back then he had been honest, shrugging it off like it was nothing. "So, wanna try it?"

A lighter flicking on reminded Meliodas of where he was. Standing before him, Gloxinia had already lit up a second joint, raising a brow at Meliodas.

"Need a light?"

No. He didn't. Not right now when he didn't know what he'd do once the weed hit his system. For all he knew, this tiny joint could lead to a crazy bender, taking him all the way across the country and back all in a quest for something Meliodas didn't really want. What he wanted was right here in London; she was only one tiny phone call away.

"Nah, I'm going out," Taking Gloxinia's advice, shrugging on his jacket, Meliodas headed toward the door, "You're right, I need a break." A long one.

Nodding, Gloxinia simply went back to his chair. Most likely he would be up logging down more details, obsessed with the plants because those things were like his babies. Sometimes, when he did think clearly, Meliodas could understand why Gloxinia found something so trivial to obsess over. Sometimes, when he forgot about all the good linked to Elizabeth, he could see why Gloxinia focused on the plants.

Now, unlit joint scorching the skin of his palm, Meliodas was feeling that way. Pain. Loneliness. Emptiness. It all became washed away when someone had a purpose, something to do with an autonomous mind and little worry nor woe.

But what was the point in a life like that? What was the point in... being alone?

"I miss you," Was what he was dying to say, out of breath as he raced to Diane's bungalow, heart racing, red-eyed and fatigued from all the mistakes he'd made over the past week. Beneath his hands he'd hold her close, hold her tight, never let go again as he hugged his entire lifetime into her body.

But instead, unsaid to Elizabeth and to himself, Meliodas simply left Gloxinia to his work and returned to the silent emptiness of his home. Just like every other lonely night. Just like every other unsaid word, meant for her and ultimately forgotten in the bitterness of his stormy mind and mundane reality.