“It’s just a plant. I’m sure you’ll find another,” Lyall rolled his eyes as he cast a silent healing charm on the gash in his arm.

“No, I won’t. They’re extremely rare!” Monty said angrily.

“I didn’t do it on purpose, and maybe you could thank me for saving your life, you self-obsessed prick.”

“Saving my life? Sure, because one erkling was going to hurt me.”

“He was closing in on you!”

“I have a wand!”

“You were playing with a plant, you fucking wanker. You had no idea it was even close to you.”

“Fuck off,” Monty seethed, crouching down in front of the bush as he attempted to find any uncrushed blooms.

The curtain had been pushed open slightly while they slept, just enough so that the sunlight was hitting Lyall’s face perfectly. Fleamont didn’t know if he’d be able to do this again, or how much longer it would last, but what he did know was that he wanted to savor the moment.

@if-i-were-a-villain @callmejud3 @archie-ships-jegulus @anauro i plan on posting the next chapter today