By Rina
Asparagus threw down the flowers, more to try to distract himself from his grief than to induce trauma on a couple of unsuspecting flora samples.
It didn’t work.
He supposed nothing would work, not for a while. *Or not ever.* . The thought was overdramatic, he knew, but at the same time it seemed heartwrenchingly true.
Wouldn’t a simple “No” have been an adequate answer? Was it really necessary to have laughed in his face? But maybe it wasn’t so bad… as long as he could hear her laugh, part of the reason he’d liked- okay, he admitted it now- become infatuated with her, still was infatuated with her.
But there were so many reasons to be infatuated with her.
And every one of them seemed as good as they had the day he’d first realized his regard for her.
Maybe he’d always love Rumpleteazer.