Scythe had never quite gotten over Grappling Hook.
It was by pure fault that they had separated, all thanks to the Scorch that had torn them apart. She missed them quite dearly for a long while, though she never shared these lasting feelings with anyone. She didn’t quite let anyone venture too deep into her personal problems, even if she did truly love her Church.
She watched every single Valentine’s Days pass on by, empty from love as she watched the calendar mark the date. She watched the other members of the Church of the TRUE-EYE get partners during that time, lose them, & then get back together again. It was a cycle, she figured. A cycle she’d permanently found herself broken out of, since she’d already lost the one true love of her life.
She thought she’d never find love again.
That was, until she met Vine Staff.
The woman was kind. Caring. So impossibly soft; she casted a sort of spell over Scythe that made the usually arrogant woman stumble over her words with a single glance from those soft pink eyes. Scythe knew from the start that she was starting to fall for this pretty lady, but she’d never done anything about it; sure, she did often—if not always—to out of her way to pay visits to the Thieve’s Rest cafe so she could gaze upon Vine Staff working as the cashier there, but she’d never had the will to approach the woman just yet, build a proper relationship that went beyond just acquaintanceship.
Scythe could never truly let go of Grappling Hook, but this woman eased the mourning on her heart; turned the angst of what she’d missed into appreciation for what had been during the time they were together, & overall allowed Scythe to just… move on with her life.
Before Scythe knew it, Valentine’s Day had rolled around again. Her breath hitched in her throat as she saw the date on the calendar—the only day of the year dedicated to confessing your love to your dear ones, the day of care & affection.
Well, Scythe thought, if she was going to confess to Vine Staff any day soon—it was going to be today.
So, she prepared herself. Wrote even a little, messy, stupidly sappy love poem on a crumpled little piece of paper for Scythe to recite out loud to Vine Staff when the time came. She collected some flowers, soft pink tulips, the exact sort that Scythe knew Vine Staff would enjoy.
Then, she took a deep breath, clutched the little bouquet of hand-picked flowers close to her chest, & walked out the door.
She knew of Vine Staff’s oddities by this point. She knew the lady enjoyed grafting all sorts of plants & flowers to her mutated woodland arm, & she’d often caught sight of Vine Staff crouched low in the local Crossroads garden, picking flowers & weaving them into the wood of her arm. Scythe made a beeline for that exact place, & as predicted, Vine Staff was there; sitting in the grass, the overhead sunbeams shining through the canopy of trees casting an ethereal sort of golden glow about the lady.
Scythe swallowed, clutching the poem & bouquet a little tighter behind her back. She cleared her throat, aiming to get Vine Staff’s attention.
“Flowers. I have a little something to say to you, if you please.”