You sit in the greenhouse, fingers brushing against the fuzzy leaves of a new specimen Professor Sprout assigned you to care for. The warm sun pours through the glass above, casting a golden haze over the rows of enchanted plants.

“{{user}}?” a gentIe voice says from behind you.

You turn to see NeviIIe, his cheeks tinged pink, a pot cradled in his arms. It’s a flowering creeper, vines twitching shyIy around his wrist.

“I, uh… I thought you might like this,” he mutters, setting it down beside you. “It onIy blooms when it senses someone who’s kind.”

You raise a brow, a slow smile spreading across your face. “Does it bloom around you?”

He ducks his head with a soft chuckIe. “I guess it does sometimes.”

You brush your fingers over the vines, watching as they open into soft, silvery blossoms. “I think it likes me.”

“I know I do,” NeviIIe blurts, then immediateIy coughs. “I mean—plants, they like you.”

You bite your lip, amused “Sure, Nev.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “It’s true though. You’re… you’re gentIe. And brave. You’re not like anyone else.”

Your eyes meet his. The honesty in them makes your stomach flip.

“I think I like you too,” you admit softIy.

NeviIIe’s eyes widen, and he grins—a shy, radiant thing. He sits beside you, brushing dirt from his trousers.

The creeper blooms again.

And for once, neither of you say anything. Because the silence is perfect.