His Little Flower (Felix and Flora)

As the storm raged, Felix and I ran inside the house. When we reached, we were both dripping wet and muddy. I took my shoes off at the door and so did he. Well, guess all the cleaning I had done today was in vain. I’d have to do it again today.

A a symphony of wind and rain rattled the windows. Felix led me to a small room, I had seen it before, it wasn’t befitting of the vastness of his home.

He asked me to wait, and he ran and got me some clothes. They were women’s clothes. A T shirt and some pyjamas. They looked new and unworn, Where did he get these from?

I quickly changed in the washroom and then came outside. I sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the chill from the rain seeping into my bones. Felix lingered in the doorway, a tension hanging between us like

unspoken question. Awkwardly, I cleared my throat, searching for words in the charged

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“Thank you for letting me stay, Felix, 1 began, my voice softer than I intended.

He nodded, his eyes flickering briefly before he replied, “It’s nothing. It would be stupid to drive this way.”

The room was dimly lit, shadows playing on the walls, and I couldn’t shake the unease that settled over us. The atmosphere crackled with unspoken words, and as Felix excused himself, closing the door behind him, the room seemed to shrink in on me

And the sounds of the storm grew louder and louder. I looked outside the window The rain was falling hard and making loud sounds against the panes.

Left alone in the noisy silence, I couldn’t quell the restlessness that chumed within. The bed felt foreign, the sheets too cold, and the storm outside echoed the tumult in my mind. Sleep remained elusive as I tossed and tunned, my thoughts spiraling in the darkness.

The mattress was so soft and the comforter he had provided was so warm. I had missed the confort of luxury.

Minutes stretched into hours, and a quiet desperation settled over me. Unable to bear the silence any longer, I slipped out of the room, tiptoeing through the hallways like a ghost. The estate felt cavernous, the hushed echoes of my steps the only disturbance in the stillness,

I was so stupid for doing this. Oh, but I couldn’t stop myself

My journey led me to Felixs door, slightly ajar, inviting curiosity. The room beyond was bathed in the soft glow of muted lamplight, revealing the contours of his sleeping figure. Even when we were younger, he could never sleep with the lights off. He always needed a night light. It made me laugh that the habit hadn’t gone, even now when he was a grown man. A mafia boss, afraid of the dark. His chest rose and fell in the rhythmic movement of slumber, the storm outside seemingly distant in his presence.

As I stood in the doorway, an unexpected vulnerability washed over me. The man before me lay peacefully unaware of my silent intrasion. For a moment, I was a trespasser in the intimate world of his solitude. Lately, I only felt like a trespasser. In his house, his life. In my own life, sometimes. I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere.

Then, as if sensing my gaze, Felix’s eyes fluttered open, meeting mine in the dimness. Time froze, and the air became charged with unspoken tension. My heart pounded, and in that heartbeat, our

eyes locked, a moment stretching into etemity.

Shit Shit.

1 gasped, caught off guard, and without a word, I turned on my heel and fled, my heart racing like a runaway train. Panic seized me as I retreated to my room, the cold air biting at my exposed skin. The realization of my Indiscretion burned with embarrassment, but a peculiar warmth lingered in my

chest.

There had been a time we often slept in the same bed. And I would watch him, then, too. Watch the peaceful look on his face, his quiet breath, his mouth a bit open. His arm under his head. He still slept like this.

Nothing has changed, I thought.

Minutes later, a soft knock echoed through the room, and I hesitated before opening the door. Felix stood there, a faint smile playing on his lips. In his hands, he held a worn, stuffed octopus, its faded pink color testament to years of its existence.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked softly. “This might help.”

The gesture rendered me speechless. Silently, I accepted the toy, the weight of the unsad lingering in the room. I held the pink octopus in my hands. I

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looked up at Felix. “Tubby?”

He nodded, his lips pursed.

He had kept Tubby,

Oh, my sweet, sweet Felix.

*You can keep him. Take him with you.” He said. “Its yours.”

It had never been just mine. But I clutched Tubby to my chest, my heart filling with warmth and emotion. A remnant of a life forgotten, I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

Felix’s gaze lingered, a warmth in his eyes that I couldn’t decipher, and then he wished me goodnight, disappearing into the shadows of the hallway.

Alone once more, I clutched the octopus in my hands, the soft toy a tangible connection to our past. Our past, together. The room suddenly felt more inviting than before. The storm outside seemed to hush to a distant rhythm, and with the toy nestled beside me, I finally succumbed to sleep

In the quiet hours that followed, the storm outside gradually subsided, leaving behind the serenity of dawn. As I woke, the memories of the night played like a reel in my mind. The octopus lay beside me, a silent reminder of a shared moment, and I couldn’t shake the inexplicable warmth that lingered in the room.

I wondered if Felix, too, carried the weight of the unspoken between us. The house, now basking in the gentle light of morning, held the echoes of a night that danced on the precipice of something I would think of often. I didn’t know what today would hold but even if Felix went back to his usual demeanour today, I would always have last night to cherish.

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