;epoch

"Now hold still…"

"Stop screaming or I’ll use duct tape."

"They had it coming, they were too friendly with you…"

"No one will find us here."

"You’ll be mine forever."

"I’m going to kill him/her."

"I don’t like people touching my things…”

"Don’t bother to struggle…"

"Did you think I wouldn’t notice?"

"Your friends are too close with you… I don’t like it..”

"It’s for your own good."

"I won’t take no for an answer."

"Keep running, I like the chase!”

"It’d be a shame if your friend was hurt…"

"If you promise not to scream, I’ll remove the gag."

"Oops, did that hurt?"

"You can’t just keep me here!"

"I’m calling the police!"

"Stop threatening anyone I talk to!"

"You’re hurting me!"

"W-what are you doing?"

"Stay away from me!"

"You’re being so clingy, it’s weird."

"Let go of me!"

"Someone is bound to come soon, they’ll notice!"

"What are you planning to do with that?"

"Did you think I wouldn’t notice you watching me sleep?"

"You killed him/her!"

"Don’t hurt me!"

"Put that down!"

"You’re scaring me…"

It’s….beautiful, is Brady’s first thought as he steps into the square with the festival in full bloom (both literally and figuratively). But, really, there’s no other word for it with everything decked in the soft pastels of Spring and flower petals alight everywhere.

If Brady’s eyes sting a bit, he’ll swear it’s allergies and a reaction to the fresh, fragrant scent of the world’s most natural perfume cloying up the air.

He closes them, just to be sure, and grips his hand a little tighter around the handle of his violin case because the action grounds him as much as it sends his heart soaring with a thousand melodies he would play if he could only capture the essence of the festival in a song. (A Herculean task, to be sure.)

With his eyes closed, he feels a brush against his head, and he snaps them open to paw at his hair in reflex. When his fingers brush against the velvety touch of flower petals, he pauses.

Someone’s placed a crown upon his head.

He sighs, but he doesn't let it get him down; life's too short for that kind of stuff! Still, he only gets through a couple before deciding that was enough of that and it was time to leave, so he stands with the flowers in hand, despite how crappy they are.

When he heads back to the square to check on those booths, he spots a tall, familiar figure standing near the beautiful array of flowers, seemingly enjoying the scenery. At that moment, Owain gets an idea and quietly walks up behind the other and stands on his toes to reach the top of his head with a badly made crown.

"Oh!" 

But before he could make his quick escape, he's caught.