It occurs to Bruce once he’s scaled the stairs halfway, leveraging his weight with a single crutch over each step, that Harvey might not share his enthusiasm at exactly 7:03 in the morning. That just because he had woken up with restless energy three hours ago, wandered into the living room and caught sight of something which had planted a clear image of a happy, smiling Harvey inside his mind, it didn’t give him the right to intrude. It could wait.
The guilt wanes the moment he reaches for the handle, opening it with enough force to vibrate through the doorframe.
Harvey doesn’t even twitch at the sound. He’s curled into himself. Comfortably rather than tightly. His right foot is sticking out from beneath the comforter. Sedatives, Bruce recalls briefly. An effective dose.
“Harv,” he calls, leaning over the edge of the bed. Nothing. He jostles Harvey’s leg, “Hey, can you hear me? I need you to get up. It’s important.”
Harvey mumbles something, shifts over onto his back. His brow furrows imperceptibly.
The patient approach is no use. Bruce straightens and yanks on Harvey’s leg. “HARVEY.”
“Wha—?” says Harvey, jolting upright. He blinks a few times. Glances around the room, as if to ensure the room he remembers falling asleep in hasn’t changed, and then looks back to Bruce. “Bruce? Everything okay?”
Bruce is already turning on his good heel, beckoning over his shoulder. “Just follow me.”
“Alright. Give me a sec. Hey, are you even supposed to be moving that fa—“
The small shoot hangs to the left on its vine, a startling bright green compared to the leaves above it. It sways gently, almost like it’s aware it has an audience. He should probably close the window. Too much dry air. “Look at it,” says Bruce, awestruck.
Each leaf before it had been short lived despite their best efforts, something gardening articles suggested was due to “insufficient humidity”. This unfurling marks the first in over a month, sixth in total. For a while Bruce had feared the possibility for growth had stagnated, but Harvey’s steadfast conviction that it simply needed time convinced him otherwise. That’s the thing about hope, the endless lesson of it: it finds a way to thrive in even the most hopeless of situations.
Bruce sneaks a glance at Harvey, watching the way his smiles settles across his face, up into his eyes, beaming. Bruce’s imagination can never live up to the real thing. It seizes him, entirely.
Harvey laughs, keeping his gaze on the plant, and wraps an arm around Bruce’s shoulder, pulling Bruce against him. “Finally! Can you believe it, we really made that happen.”
“Finally,” Bruce echos warmly. He feels Harvey’s lingering sleep-warmth seeping into him. The hair at his temple tickles the side of Bruce’s face. He can’t remember the last time they’d hugged. He had considered it, at the asylum the day Harvey was released. He’d decided a pat on the back was more appropriate. The regret, he remembers clearly.
Bruce comes to his senses just as he begins to lean into it.
“Ah,” says Harvey, and then they’re both pulling away and off to opposite sides of the table.
An attempt to smooth the moment over feels like it fits wrong on his mouth, lopsided, so Bruce makes for the kitchen to search for the fine-mist bottle he knows isn’t there. “Might need refreshing,” he says, opening and closing cabinets.
Harvey clears his throat. “Good thinking.”
ANON I HAVE NO WORDS FOR THIS BUT A LOT OF SCREAMING AIMING YOUR WAY 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️ There are a lot of things in here that I could never express through my art sO THANK YOU!!!
Bruce sneaks a glance at Harvey, watching the way his smiles settles across his face, up into his eyes, beaming. Bruce’s imagination can never live up to the real thing. It seizes him, entirely.
This bit right here murdered me. It’s so SOFT IM 🥺😭
I know you said I don’t need to draw anything bUT I STILL WANTED TO SO HERE HAVE A DOODLE of them.. taking care of their plant baby like the proud parents that they are 🥲🥲❤️❤️❤️❤️
Earlier plant parents comic here
