sometimes love is a white flag

REMI

Stormbreak smells like stone and sunlight in LongHeat—dry warmth clinging to its high, stone walls, the scent of sun-baked tile and distant florals riding the quiet wind that snakes through the skyport. Remi strolls through the plaza, his shoulders a little drawn, curls damp with sweat from the heat. He’s dressed simply—short sleeves, tan pants, boots that crunch softly over the cobbled path leading toward a building he hasn't been in for years now.

The door still looks the same—weathered wood, sun-bleached at the corners. But there are little things different too. A wreath of dried florals (he recognizes Mateo’s handiwork instantly), a brass sign hanging above the threshold that glints softly in the sun. Remi lifts a hand, hesitates for just a moment, and then opens the door.

The scent hits him immediately—fresh greenery, crushed herbs, petals soft and sweet and heady. The first floor has been transformed since he was here last, and though he doesn’t step in far enough to see all of it, he can already feel the shift. It’s bright, wild, beautiful; alive in a way that’s distinctly Mateo.

Instead, Remi stays near the door, rubbing a hand absently over the back of his neck. Then, with a voice he keeps even—quiet, but clear enough to carry through the space—he calls: "Mateo?"

There's a rhyme and reason to the wild outdoors
When the heart of this star-crossed voyager beats in time with yours

Code stolen from Queen Sky

Mateo

At this time of year things are relatively quiet in Mateo's shop. Longheat, especially, discourages people from hanging out in what's essentially a glorified greenhouse, though the botanist isn't sure what exactly is so different about it compared to the sweltering warmth of outside. He's been busy towards the back wall, in animated conversation with a cluster of sunflowers that have just turned their faces towards the skylight he'd installed some seasons ago, when his father's voice rings out.

Straightening up, his conversation silenced, Mateo turns and frowns out into the greenery, as if trying to decide if he's just hearing things and whether to pay it any mind. Eventually curiosity wins out - for no other reason than because he has no idea what Remi is doing up here if he really is standing in his doorway - and he sidles around overhanging leaves and dewy blooms to the front of the shop. And lo and behold, it is his father.

"Has something happened?" he asks in a quiet voice that betrays his worry; the last time Remi had paid a visit, after all, his sister had died. Dressed in his usual sage green apron and with his curls swept up and into a loose bun out of his face, it's with dirt on his hands and a softly concerned frown that he steps further towards Remi.

i've told you time and time again
i'm not as think as you drunk i am

REMI

The sight of Mateo—sunlit curls pinned back, apron creased and smudged with earth, his hands still flecked with soil—catches Remi somewhere low in the chest. It's the kind of ache that doesn't show on his face, but digs in beneath the ribs all the same.

That his son’s first instinct is worry; that he is the reason for it. Remi flinches, if only internally. His lips twitch into a soft, rueful smile as he lets the door fall shut behind him. "No," he says gently, shaking his head, his accent winding warm and quiet through the stillness of the shop. "Nothing’s happened. Everyone is alright."

He lets the promise linger a moment longer before he gestures vaguely toward the ceiling. "I just needed to grab something from upstairs," he says. "Only a minute or two, if that’s alright. Then I’ll be out of your way." There’s no pressure in his voice, no expectation. Just a quiet request—an apology buried beneath the syllables that he doesn’t know how to speak aloud, and never really has.

There's a rhyme and reason to the wild outdoors
When the heart of this star-crossed voyager beats in time with yours

Code stolen from Queen Sky

Mateo

Visibly relaxing despite himself to hear that there have been no further casualties since his brief return to Stormbreak, Mateo also manages a smile, tight though it might be. "That is good," he says, before following Remi's gaze towards the ceiling with dawning clarification. For a moment he'd assumed that the Bastion - as is his way, whether or not he's aware of it - had decided to visit regardless of their prior conversations. But for him to be in the shop to retrieve something from the old apartment upstairs? It helps, strangely.

"Of course. Let me unlock it," he says, wiping his hands on his apron and ducking beneath a string of delicate, heart shaped leaves to retrieve his ring of keys from behind the counter. "Would you like a copy?" he asks, holding up the keys once he's retrieved them. "I will only be here until the end of the week. I have asked someone to take over the shop until things are less..." He gestures vaguely. Voidy?

"After that, I will be flying down to Haulani to stay." Heading towards the steps spiralling upwards - steps that have almost been swallowed into the architecture of the shop by now - Mateo is careful where he steps, so as not to disturb vines or budding flowers.

i've told you time and time again
i'm not as think as you drunk i am

REMI

Remi shakes his head immediately, his curls brushing lightly against his temple as he follows behind. "No, thank you," he murmurs, voice low but sincere. "I wouldn’t want to intrude on your space." The idea of holding a key to something that now belonged to Mateo..it didn’t sit right. Not when he still wasn’t sure where the line between welcome and unwelcome stood between them.

At the mention of Haulani, his brows lift, a flicker of surprised relief in the soft crease of his expression. "Good," he says after a moment, and the warmth in the word is quiet but genuine. "I'm sure Flora will be happy to have you around. We all will." There’s more he could say—wants to say—but the staircase is already winding up beneath his feet, and he takes the steps with careful attention, mindful not to brush against the trailing vines or the budding leaves that have slowly claimed the edges of the staircase.

At the top, the air shifts with memory. The apartment is not as he remembers, not fully—but enough of it is. The bones of their old life linger beneath the roots and the green. With a glance toward Mateo for silent permission, Remi crosses the threshold and makes his way into the kitchen. He reaches up to one of the taller cupboards—one he knows the botanist likely hasn’t touched much—and eases open the door. His fingers find the mug at the very back, ceramic matte and faintly chipped along one edge.

There's a rhyme and reason to the wild outdoors
When the heart of this star-crossed voyager beats in time with yours

Code stolen from Queen Sky

Mateo

"It is not really my space, up there," Mateo confesses. "I only use my old room for extra stock, paperwork, things like that." When he's of a mind to care about things like that, anyway. "The rest of the apartment is pretty much the same as it always was. But I suppose if you need anything, I will be in Torchline pretty soon, so it is not as though it will be difficult to get the keys." Clicking open the door and stepping inside for Remi to pass, Mateo can only offer a gentle nod at the Bastion's approval. Having spent quite a bit of time with his sister as of late, he's as excited to be back in her company as he hopes she is to see him.

Nodding to invite Remi to go ahead, he doesn't move further into the space he'd once called home - the space he'd more or less grown up in, truthfully. Instead he merely lingers and waits until his father returns, holding - of all things - a piece of ceramic. "You do not have mugs on the Northaven?" He raises his eyebrows, the question coming out before he gives it permission. Clearing his throat awkwardly as if to apologise for being forward, he gestures to the open door back down to the shop.

i've told you time and time again
i'm not as think as you drunk i am

REMI

Remi turns, mug in hand, a faintly sheepish smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. The apartment’s light casts soft gold across his curls, but it does little to hide the awkward shift in his stance as he meets Mateo’s gaze. "It’s for a quest," he explains, voice quiet but open. "From Mort." He glances down at the mug, thumb brushing gently along the old chip in the rim. "I’m meant to gather something from every place Ronin and I have lived since arriving in Caido." His smile twitches, smaller and more self-introspective now. "It’s for our ten-year wedding anniversary. Next season."

The words hang in the air a moment—weighty, perhaps, for all the time they haven’t spoken. Then, slowly, Remi looks back up, holding Mateo’s gaze with something steadier. "I’d like it if you came," he says. There’s no flourish to it, no pressure—just a simple, sincere request. "If you want to." Remi shifts, mug still in hand, and his free fingers lift to scratch idly through his curls—a telltale gesture of nerves he doesn’t bother to hide. His gaze drops for a moment, not quite able to hold Mateo’s under the weight of everything unsaid between them.

"You don’t need to answer me right now," he adds, the words gentle, his voice quieter than before. "We’ll be sending out invitations." There’s a pause, and his smile is wry but genuine as he glances back up. "I just...wanted you to know you’re wanted there. That you’re always welcome."

There's a rhyme and reason to the wild outdoors
When the heart of this star-crossed voyager beats in time with yours

Code stolen from Queen Sky

Mateo

"Oh?" More familiar with quests now than he ever has been - and having seen the good they can do, too - Mateo is unashamedly curious about Remi's tasks from Mort. "You are getting something from the god of death for Ronin for your anniversary...?" Far from being one to judge (and it's a very Remi thing to do, even the botanist can admit that much), he still can't help the smile that threatens to spread across his face, hiding it only by starting to make the descent back down to the shop.

Only that's not all, and as the Bastion speaks again Mateo turns to meet his gaze, blue eyes softly wary, perhaps a little tired, as he waits for whatever strings might be attached. When there don't seem to be any, he lingers there on the stairs as if wondering whether this particular olive branch will turn out to have thorns if he reaches out to take it. "I will check my diary," he says, trying for easy breezy and only partially succeeding. "If I do not already have plans, I will be there."

It's as much as he can offer without saying something he's sure he'll regret, though before he turns to continue, he does offer Remi a small smile, the shadow of a dimple on one cheek. "Thanks."

i've told you time and time again
i'm not as think as you drunk i am

REMI

Remi’s grin blooms slow and sheepish, the mug cradled in his palms like a talisman. He shrugs one shoulder, a soft nod following as he murmurs, "If you come to the party, I think it’ll make more sense." There’s something boyish in the curve of his smile—hopeful, but cautious not to press.

"Spero di vederti lì," he adds gently in the travelling tongue, a private softness threading through the words.

Then, glancing down at the mug with a sigh, he steps past the threshold of the kitchen, descending back into the shop below. His footsteps are light, respectful of the space, and when his eyes lift again it’s to take in the rows of plants, the earthy perfume of soil and green things, the soft glow that makes everything look alive. "It all looks really good in here," he says, voice low and fond. There’s nostalgia there, caught in the back of his throat like a petal that won’t quite fall.

"Anyway, I won’t take up any more of your time," he says finally, the same way you might close the cover of a beloved book. Turning at the door, curls brushing his cheek, he glances back just once. "Ti voglio bene, Mateo."

And then he slips out into the sunlight.

~FIN

There's a rhyme and reason to the wild outdoors
When the heart of this star-crossed voyager beats in time with yours

Code stolen from Queen Sky