Flowey, Do You Remember Love? #2

Ao3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6969736/chapters/15888049
Previous chapter: http://pastebin.com/GcsZZpy4

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[Flowey, Do You Remember Love?]

[Chapter 2: Apparently Not]

The lonely lollipop stick fell on the table with a sad clack. With its sweet noggin fully devoured, it was tossed aside like a meager piece of plastic. Truthfully, it was just that, but for a few days on those store shelves, it was also a provider of sugar rushes, and a destroyer of teeth. It had power, it had influence, not just over biology, but wealth and the hearts of children. Robbed of this terrible power, it had truly nothing left in this world.

And had even less, when the frantic flower shoved it off to the floor.

"Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh golly!" he whimpered, scrambling around.

The familiar phrase made him pause and groan in frustration for a moment. Despite how much he tried to eliminate that word from his vocabulary, it proved much more difficult than expected. What was left of his range of emotions were raging like a tempestuous ocean, while he swayed side-to-side. The motion always made those watching a bit nervous as he resembled a living metronome, but it also helped calm his nerves ever-so-slightly. For the moment though, it helped precious little.

It's been a while since he'd been this anxious. It was not a feeling he missed.

Flowey never once considered the possibility of Frisk seeking more from him, than friendship, or even just mutually agreed-upon non-aggression. Even since he returned to this form, he just assumed the human sought his company in a vain attempt to make either of them feel better. That, or to swat away some phantom guilt they had no place in feeling. After all, they've done enough. Still, Frisk persisted until Flowey couldn't make any more excuses and not once did he really take the time to examine the whys and hows.

Looking back at it, the signs were clear. All that affection, all those playful-to-serious talks the two had, those couldn't have been just a passing interest. It surely wasn't pity; that emotion never played part in Frisk's motivations towards him, he was sure of that. Compassion yes, but not pity. The phrase 'your best friend' couldn't have been said in jest. Yet in hindsight, the jump from 'petaled pal' to something more should have occurred to him much sooner.

How long has he been so ignorant? How long has Frisk been harboring these feelings for him? And how will he--

"Waah!!" Flowey cried out, flushing in deep red as his trail of thoughts were rudely interrupted by their very subject.

Frisk snickered, closing the door behind them. They winked and put the tip of their tongue out, mocking the embarrassed flower. Flowey swallowed and attempted the shadow of a smile, hoping he wasn't sweating bullets even now. They always did enjoy getting the jump on him, but he really wished they weren't in the room right now. He was in the middle of an episode of emotional turmoil, and having the cause and target of his predicament actively watching helped less than nothing.

"W-what did Toriel need?" he asked, trying his best to inject some bit of mockery, or an impatient edge into his voice. Not because he really felt like it, but he had to keep a low profile for the moment and being a bit of a jerk was a good baseline.

The child turned around and bent their knee, giving them just a little jump-start to slump into their bed with a satisfied moan. From their newest resting spot, they raised both hands and made a few quick signals.

"Groceries." Flowey confirmed, nodding several times in a row.

He was rather thankful Frisk couldn't see them from that position. Flowey guessed he was still the person who heard them say the most words in a row, but they still weren't exactly the talkative kind even with him. Conversations tended to involve a lot more existing and made-up signs, lots of guesswork and amused chuckles upon mistakes. Not that he was bothered, since he admittedly did like the sound of his own voice.

"Anything for me?" he continued, going for the mischievous approach.

The raised hand and the thumb pointed firmly downwards were quite disappointing.

The silence, even though it had barely lasted fifteen seconds, quickly became unbearable for Flowey.

"So uh... Frisk?" he mumbled, falling over his words. Frisk continued to hold their hands in their air, twirling fingers while they waited for Flowey to finish. He swallowed and hardened his gaze. Fear was pointless. He could do this.

Small talk mode activated.

"A-are we going to hang out somewhere? Today?" he was quickly getting annoyed of the sudden stuttering he gained. It felt like he was trying to imitate Alphys, except without even a hint of irony. "If you're done with... idiot stuff, I guess. We, I mean us?"

Flowey briefly noticed the MTT-brand alarm clock on the human's bed, the time clearly showing it was past 7 PM. Frisk had school in the morning and Toriel's curfews were absolutely no laughing matter. He glanced back to see Frisk had risen from their bed, looking at him with concern, as if he had just turned into a head of lettuce.

Small talk mode was disengaged and abandoned to burn.

They hopped off the bed with the same cutesy little jump and approached the nervous flower. The base of his petals matched his reddening cheeks. He was all the more alarmed, when they reached out for him, most likely in an attempt to pet him. He made it clear on many occasions that we was not for touching, which Frisk routinely pretended to just not hear.

"Hey, what are you--" he reeled back, dodging the likely headpat. "No touching the flower!"

Frisk frowned and reached out again, this time from a different angle. Flowey leaned to the right, evading the human's hand once more. If his mood were any worse, he would have attempted to bite at this point.

"This flower is not for touching!" he protested loudly, a low growl rumbling from his stem. "Go away and pat yourself or something!"

They continued to try to no avail, as he avoided even the hand's very aura, swaying in every possible direction. He was conflicted enough already, and really detested the thought of getting another dose of their yucky, touchy affection.

Wait. Affection?

The momentary break in concentration was all it took. Frisk approached with their other hand from behind and caught Flowey's stem. They were gentle as always, but just firm enough to keep him from jerking around. Flowey shut his eyes tight, half-expecting a hug, a kiss or something of that nature, all of which Frisk was more than happy to dish out at any time. Instead, he just felt their touch on top of his head, still burning up from embarrassment.

"Hmm." Flowey heard them utter. Peeking up, he could see Frisk still looking rather concerned.

Flowey started pulling away again, but luckily they didn't have to fight hard to do that. Frisk let go and immediately headed out the door. The moment they were out of sight and of earshot, he allowed a deep sigh.

"Too close, too close..." he whined, wiping his head with a magically elongated leaf.

Less than an hour into this brand new situation and he was already mucking it up quite severely. The thought of having to deal with an emotion he couldn't even try to reproduce, was daunting. Small talk was definitely not his forte, he quickly had to realize that. The list of things he was genuinely good at was rather short, but that could still be changed, with a little effort.

Flowey steeled his tattered resolve, as they heard Frisk returning and with something rattling in their hands. While it might have been only enough for second place in this household next to the human, he still had tons of currently untapped determination to spare. He had all the power and all the will to go through with this. If anyone could make sense of this surely blossoming romance, it was him.

Believing in himself filled Flowey with determination.

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Hardly anyone knew, but Frisk was quite the sloppy sleeper. Every single night, they would climb into a neatly made bed, courtesy of Toriel, and by morning it would appear no different from a war zone. To make matters worse, they often groaned and snored, alternating between the two if they really felt like it. This normally wouldn't have bothered Flowey all that much, as he could always just sink into the soil of his pot for a more soundproof environment. However, for once, that was a difficult think to do, thanks to the crushing weight pushing down upon him.

It wasn't the weight of his emotions, or lack thereof.

But the large ice pack, as Frisk thought he had gotten sick.

Flowey groaned, squirming under the all-encompassing barrier of cold. Admittedly, as the season changed to summer, this cold was indeed more and more welcome, balancing the steadily melting ice cubes proved rather uncomfortable in the long run. As the weight kept pushing the fuming flower right back into his pot, he came to a very significant conclusion.

He needed some expert assistance with this.