May I ask for a crumbling of Yuu angst. Like their already having a terribly overwhelming day. Their missing home and they go to Heartslabyul and then they see the roses and start crying or perhaps just become mildy unresponsive. Because the flowers aren't right and now the sky isnt the right blue and peoples eyes shouldn't be red or blue. Hair shouldn't naturally be green or purple and now yuus hyperventilating without realizing. Maybe with a dash of comfort of them waking up in a soft bed they've been carried to so they can hide their face in the sheets and rest even if thats just closing their eyes and just listening to the world.
Yuu leaned over the barrier separating the raised platform of the gazebo and the hedge behind it. Their fingers pushed past the roses' outer petals, searching for the thorns hidden behind them. The flowers shuddered and bloomed wider, gently pushing their hand back in silent protest.
The leaves arranged themselves to cover the empty spots between the hedge, blocking them from searching out another rose and searching behind that one.
They settled for leaning against their arms, head propped on their hands and close enough to smell the roses, their scent stronger than anything Yuu remembered from Earth.
Back home, the flowers always smelled like the water they were kept in, fresh or not. Yuu only knew the scent "rose" from the hand sanitizers their mother was obsessed with, or the general smell that came from a Bath & Bodyworks (they don't have those here—well, they do, but Yuu couldn't be bothered to remember the name).
Here, the smell was richer. Cleaner. It didn't feel overbearing to just...take in.
Their chair gently pushed itself back to the set table, waiting for them to sit properly before sliding their legs beneath the table cloth.
Yuu moved the hair that had fell infront of their eyes—
🙶 ʙᴀꜱɪᴄ? ɴᴏ…ɴᴏ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴇ ᴏꜰᴛᴇɴ. 🙷
Their fingers tightened around the strand, their face scrunching at the memory.
Their hair was nothing special—never dyed, and the only time they ever used heat on it was for important events or whatever the fuck—but it seemed to 'special' enough to warrant Rook's fingers carding through whenever he gave them the chance.
He, Jamil, Cater—they were the closest thing to the normal Yuu knew.
Rook was blond—and his eyes were a nice, natural green.
Cater's hair was a fiery orange, and that was something normal to Yuu.
Jamil is beautiful—but his eyes were a gray that Yuu could imagine existed back home. His hair was well kept, long, and a lovely shade a normal, earth-ly brown.
Yuu could look them in the eye (well, until that—he's their friend now, it's been getting easier) and not feel their skin crawl because they were at least close to normal.
🙶 ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ɢᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ, ʟɪᴋᴇ…ʟɪɴᴇꜱ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ? 🙷
Their fingers let go of the strand and dropped to feel below their eyes.
Floyd said it as an offhand comment, unimportant—he didn't say it to be mean, they know Floyd, and it wasn't said to be mean—but it made their eyes flick to his and their neurons to fire.
Why they couldn't eye contact.
It made their skin crawl just at the thought of looking into them. But they want to. They want to meet their friends' eyes, want to show them that Yuu is listening, they promise, please just don't look this way—
Yuu reaches for their bag to press into their stomach, clutching it tightly while the pressure grounds them.
Their fingers dig into the leather of their bag, and they miss the light clinking of glass because they're too busy trying to breathe.
The flower acting as the centerpiece of the table opens slowly, the petals bumping against its glass bowl and the glittery water swirling around it shimmering brightly.
Yuu jolts and whips around in search of the voice, nails digging into the leather.
But one of my lovely cards shouldn't be feel like this. At least not alone.
The flower's pollen realeases into the air.
Yuu jolts and that cuts the pleasant chatter happening around them off abrutply.
They feel the weight on their stomach—it's Ace, Deuce is on their other side, forehead pressed against their side—and its grounding. It's easier than digging their nails into leather or pressing it into their stomach.
This is easier, better. They feel warm.
A gloved hand moved their hair from around their neck—how had he'd known it was bothering them?—and lingers on their shoulders, slowly pressing his thumb into the knot present there.
"I'm sorry that had to happen to you—" The flower, the voice that seemed to intrude on every fiber of their being. "—I should've kept a tighter hold on it. I...I should've seen your struggles much sooner."
Their eye lids close over their eyes, because this is much better.
"...Don't worry. I'll talk to the crow, it'll all be sorted out before you wake. Right now, as the newest of my cards, your job is to rest. Can you do that?"
Yuu nods. They can do that. They've....been wanting to do that.
"Good." The hand squeezes their shoulder. "I'll leave them to you."
"Of course." Trey's voice is warm, softer than usual.
"We'll be here!" Cater's volume doesn't make them jolt, but he's shushed anyways. "Sorry."
Yuu listens to Riddle leave, lips twitching upwards at how he makes sure the door doesn't slam when he closes it.
Ace slaps their leg lightly, muttering at how he can hear them thinking and how it's not time for that...before he slips back under.
A hand finds their hand again, and Cater mutters something about a braid and what suit will you have...any is good! But you should totally be a diamond, and Yuu slips back under feeling warm.
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