“There’s another wagon with more. I’ve been tendin’ them all since the end of the season, savin’ them before they got tossed. Figured, when we get back to Garoureve, there’s no tellin’ what might be left of your mother’s herb garden.”
It was likely overgrown and filled with weeds but still usable… or at least, it would be in the spring. And until then, everything her mother had already gathered before they left would be preserved in the clinic… if no one else was using it.
But she wasn’t going to say that. She wasn’t going to say any of that.
Henrik had gathered herbs for her. He was growing plants for her. He had spent time and energy caring for plants for her.
And it had all started before he even knew she was going back with him, before he knew he had won her over, and before he knew they would even be together again. He had done this without even knowing if she would ever get her powers stable, or be able to use the herbs to help others.
He had done this on faith and hope and with intention.
She loved him so much, she could kiss him, if only it wouldn’t cause so much pain.
“Oh, Henrik…” she breathed out, forcing herself to look from him to the plants. He was practically beaming, grinning at her, but she had to look away from him, otherwise she was going to tackle him. “All of this… because you had hope?”
“Been livin’ with only hope to keep me warm for years, Little Witch. Once I saw you again, I knew you would be mine. Was just a matter of time.”
Her focus stayed on the plants, because with words like that, shewouldkiss him, fire be damned.
“And uhh, there’s one more thing, but you gotta promise not to set these two on fire.”
Damn him, their kiss would have to wait.
“What on earth could you possibly have—” Henrik was stepping aside, revealing the two pots behind him. They were beautiful pots, painted pieces of art, and they were overflowing with flowering violets. He had… He’d… But… “Oh, Henrik.”
“Keep lookin’ at me like that, and I’m gonna think you wanna kiss me,” Henrik teased her.
It was too on the nose, and she froze, then looked up at him frantically.
She did want to kiss him. She needed to kiss him. This was a kindness that she couldn’t even describe, and not even in a romantic way. This was all that she needed to show her that he truly believed she could fix this, fix all of their problems. He truly believed in her, that she could fix the spell wrapped around them, that she could fix whatever was broken around Garoureve, that she could be a witch, a real witch.
This was a faith in her that she didn’t even have in herself. He believed in her. And that was... she was...
“I love you,” she breathed out, and took two steps towards him. “This is... Henrik, it’s... you really think I can fix this, don’t you?”
He spread his arms wide, inviting her into his embrace, and she took it, wrapping her arms high around his middle, and pressing her face into his chest, breathing him in. She hated that this was the most they could do, the most intimacy they were allowed, with layers between them, but she would take it.
Better this than thousands of miles apart.
“I know you can fix this. I know you can do anythin’ you really set your mind to. You used to say you were such a hot head, flarin’ up and bein’ impatient, but you know what else I’ve always thought about you? After you flare up, get mad, and all that... you then set in to figure it out. Always. You won’t admit to it, sure, but I see you. I watch you. You don’t let things go. So yeah, I know we’re gonna figure this out... for no other reason than because even right now, I can smell you, and fuck, Little Witch, if I ain’t droolin’ to taste every last...”
Violet’s breathing became heavier at his words, and suddenly, she was all too aware of the part of the anatomy he was talking about, hinting about. Shewashorny for him, every second she was around him, but every time he pleased her, did something for her that made her feel special and important, that showed his trust in her...
Was this a sign of a praise kink? Or a sign of her wanting to be a good girl? There had to be a label for this, for her desire to have his trust and to feel special and rewarded.
She wanted to do this for him. Wanted to figure this out for him. So that he could praise her. Call her his good Little Witch.
And then reward her with all the pleasure she had imagined.
“Fuck, you are a temptation,” Henrik growled, making his chest rumble. “You keep goin’ like that, and I’m gonna—”
His hand tangled in her hair, pulling it backwards and forcing her to look up at him. His eyes were glowing, a sign he was on the verge of a shift, and her shoulder ached slightly, where the brand was still hidden under a bandage from human eyes. She wanted him. Wanted to taste him. Wanted to just... push through it.
“If we’re going to burn, at least we burn together,” Violet breathed out.
The smell of smoke hit her nose, and she jerked away from him right as he did. Turning, she saw the violets, her violets, the one he had planted for her, smoking slightly.
Fucking... fuck. There was no other word for it. Just fuck.