Little Flower Twirl and Bloom

A cold psychic ping met Willow over egg reds and refried sprouts. She ignored it, of course; the Parks maintained a strict no-scrolls-at-the-table rule. Two more texts found her later at the sink; startled, she let a half-washed spoon slip from her fingers into the sudsy water.

The most recent messages were from Gus:

Hey are you there? Luz is really upset. Something happened w/ her and Amity

I'm trying to help but I'm a little out of my depth. I think you should talk to her

The earlier message was from Luz; Willow responded immediately.

hey do u have a sec 2 talk?

Yes!! Sorry, was having dinner.

What's wrong?

A good few seconds passed without an answer, leaving Willow to wonder and worry. Amity…as of late, Willow’s old friend had begun to melt into a swooning, tongue-tied mess at the simplest interactions with Luz. Could this be related, somehow, to Amity’s crush?

The scroll began to pulse and hum, and Luz’s name flashed across the screen. Willow looked up at Papa, who’d been drying the dishes; he nodded and smiled, stepping to the sink to take her place.

“Thank you!”

Willow rushed to her bedroom. Compared to the rest of the apartment, it felt like another world: greenery clung to every square notch of space and then some, spilling all over her furniture and floor. As she answered Luz’s call, she found herself especially grateful for the eight-nosed daffodils that grew atop her bureau; they hummed a low, nasal drone that granted her some privacy despite her home’s thin walls.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Willow,” came the sound of Luz’s shaky voice.

Willow braced herself. “Hey, Luz. What’s going on?”

“So. Um. Funny story.” Luz sniffed. “It turns out Amity’s just been a mean bully this whole time?” 

“What?” Willow shouted—then clamped her jaw shut. She hadn’t meant to raise her voice. But every cruelty she’d experienced from Amity flashed green before her eyes. “What did she do to you?” she asked, trying not to sound utterly enraged.

“She…um…” Luz trailed off, then broke into quiet, hiccuping sobs, barely audible over the scroll.

The desire to hug Luz came upon Willow so swift and strong it hurt. Instead, she simply had to shape her words with as much compassion as possible. “Hey, it’s okay…it’s alright. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

But please do, she added silently. Anger had cooled into worry: her mind raced through dozens of possible scenarios, each more horrifying than the last.

“No, it’s okay, I—” Luz took a deep breath, gasping halfway through. “She said she didn’t want to be friends.”

Oh. Willow almost felt relieved, though of course she didn’t show it. “That’s awful. I…guess she doesn’t have the guts to stand up to her parents after all, huh?”

“No, it’s—she drank a truth serum. So that I’d know she really meant it. She…” Luz trailed off, but only for a moment. “She said I was her least favorite person in the world.”

Just like that, the fury returned—and with it, a flood of magic that Willow struggled not to unleash on her plants.

“Willow? You still there?”

“Yes. Sorry.” Unshed tears clouded her vision, blurring her jungle of a bedroom. “I’m just really upset with Amity! I thought she changed! But I guess not!” Willow loosened her grip on the scroll; it uncrumpled slightly. She ought to keep talking—but what more was there to say? Amity was simply terrible.

“The w-worst part is,” said Luz, “I still feel like—I don’t actually, but it—f- feels like I can’t t-trust—anyone—like everybody is only p-pretending to—like me—”

“Hey, no,” Willow cut in.

“Like this is all m-my fault—for—”

“You know that isn’t—”

“For t-thinking I—d-deserve friends.”

“You’re wrong!” Willow couldn’t keep her voice down this time. Plants shot up around her, a kaleidoscope of petals, leaves, and stems. “You are the kindest, bravest, most amazing, fun-to-hang-out-with person I know! Forget Amity. It’s her loss if she can’t see how great you are.”

The line went silent. Willow took a deep, slow breath, forcing the plants back into their pots. She wiped her eyes, silently chiding herself. This didn’t happen anymore. She didn’t do this. Not since—well, not since she’d buried the bloodaxe with Amity.

“You’re…not just saying that?”

“Of course not. You’re my best friend, Luz.” She wanted so, so badly to hug her.

“What about Gus?” Luz said hesitantly, as if she was afraid of the answer. “You guys were friends way before I got here.”

Willow smiled. “I’m allowed to have two best friends, aren’t I?”

“Yeah,” Luz said. “Yeah! That’s really good!”

“It is.”

A more comfortable silence settled between them. Willow peered through the small patch of window not obscured by dogsbreath or impale-me-nots. The sun had almost set; Bonesborough would come alive again at night, but for now, it was quiet. The sole pedestrian on her street was a little demon girl who skipped around in erratic, back-and-forth motions, dancing to some inaudible rhythm.

“You know,” Luz said after a minute, “the dumbest thing is…I think I maybe had a little bit of a crush on Amity?”

Willow wasn’t sure why her stomach dropped, nor why she took a step back and sank into her bed. Her hand reached for the applered vine that draped from her ceiling, a constant comfort since childhood. “Really?”

“I dunno,” said Luz—casually, as if Willow’s entire world didn’t hinge on the answer. ( Wait, what? ) “I mean, she’s really pretty, but so are lots of people! Eda’s really pretty, but I don’t have a crush on her. And so are Edric and Emira. And, like, all of the detention-track kids. And you!”

Her nails broke the plant’s flesh; nectar leaked onto her fingertips.

“Uh, sorry if that came off weird. I just mean, like, if I have a crush on Amity then it means I have a crush on basically everyone, you know?”

“No, yeah, I get it,” Willow lied.

Luz made a noise that could have been a sigh. “Not like it matters, anyway. God, how stupid would it be if I realized I liked her after she—” She cut off suddenly, her voice choked.

Something snapped into place inside Willow; she chose her words like a florist arranging an especially deadly bouquet. “There are lots of people who would count themselves lucky to be with you, Luz.”

A half-hearted laugh. “If you say so.”

“I’m serious!” Willow said, surprised that she even needed to clarify. “Look. If you’re getting a maybe-crush on every other person you meet, then someone is bound to reciprocate eventually.”

Like me, she thought.

That was it. Willow liked Luz. Not just as a friend, but romantically. It was an unfamiliar feeling. But she knew enough—had read enough—to recognize the signs of her first infatuation.

And Luz liked her back.

A strange tranquility fell over Willow. The future unfolded in her mind’s eye: she and Luz would get together—of course they would, they both liked each other—and she would get to explore all the different varieties of romance. Going on dates? She wasn’t sure how that differed from just hanging out with Luz, but she certainly wouldn’t say no. Hugging? Cuddling? Yeah, that sounded really good. Kissing? Maybe!

Sex? Willow only had to think about it for a heartbeat. No, she still wasn’t interested in sex. Maybe she’d remain indifferent her whole life—she knew it was possible, if uncommon. Or maybe the feelings would come with time. Either way, it was a no for now.

Everything else, though…Willow only had to say it. I like you, Luz. And it would come true.

Not yet, obviously. Luz was hurting. The last thing Willow wanted was to take advantage of her misery—to pile a confession on top of everything else. No, she would wait. For now, she would just be a good friend.

The line had gone silent.

“Luz?”

“Sorry! Sorry.” She sounded drained. “I think dinner’s almost ready—I should head out.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow!” Willow’s voice sounded inappropriately cheery even to her own ears. But she couldn’t dampen her excitement.

She waited for Luz to hang up. Instead, a few seconds later, her voice came through the scroll again.

“Hey, Willow?”

“Yeah?”

The demon girl was almost gone around the bend; the street was almost empty.

“Thank you.”

It never stopped. Amity Blight was a ball of knotted twine lodged in Willow’s skull—a scream choked off at the shoulders—quicksand, triproot, razorberry—odium and ire, all smiling and sweet. Amity Blight held a knife to Luz’s back; Willow watched the blood spray hot and wet, and she woke up shaking, sweating, cold.

The first thing Willow did when she saw Luz the next morning was wrap her twig of a body in as tight a hug as she was physically capable of, and then squeeze her even more. A small gasp escaped Luz’s lips; the din of Hexside’s hallways faded as Willow closed her eyes.

I want this, she thought.

“Um, Willow?” came Luz’s strained voice. “I can’t—really—”

Willow released her immediately, and Luz exhaled. “Sorry!”

“No.” Luz was looking at the floor, arms crossed, shoulders hunched. “I…needed that. Thank you.”

The sight of Luz so small and unsure of herself—like a snaggleback retreating into its shell—felt wrong. Willow grabbed Luz’s hand and squeezed it.

“Good,” she said, “because there’s a lot more where that came from.”

Luz looked up and smiled, and wow, what a smile, and then before she could even collect her thoughts, Luz pulled her into another embrace—and if Willow hugging Luz had been nice, then Luz hugging Willow was incomprehensibly, mind-numbingly wonderful. What the fuck, actually. Is this what she’d been missing out on? Willow was not one to swear, but Titan’s fucking teeth and tongue, what the actual fuck.

Luz was speaking, and Willow had missed some of the words—although, in her defense, Luz was rather distractingly mumbling them into Willow’s hair.

“…come by after class?”

“Yes!” Willow said, just as the bell screamed the hour.

“Crap.” Luz pulled away from the hug and hurried to gather her things. “See you at lunch!” she said, and dashed off for her first class.

She got about twenty paces before Willow shouted after her—on a whim—“You’re amazing!”

Luz looked genuinely surprised as she looked over her shoulder, wearing an uncertain grin and a faint blush, before continuing on her way. Willow could only smile as a few onlookers’ heads turned her way.

If Amity had planned to pull the carpet out from under Willow’s feet, too, to loudly denounce their friendship and reassert the old hierarchies, she didn’t get a chance. When Amity walked into demonology, Willow didn’t even meet her eyes—just stood up and moved to the back of the class.

Amity didn’t bother her again after that.

The memory came unbidden, as it always did. Bruises on her stomach. Dirt in her hair. Porcelain shards. An abomination’s embrace.

“Willow?”

She snapped back to the present. She was crouched on the floor of the Owl House, her back pressed against the lumpy, mildly odorous lower part of the couch. She, Luz, and Gus were circled around a game of Hexes Hold’em, the cards frozen in place. King lay curled up on a nearby chair, kicking in his sleep. And Gus was looking at her strangely.

She smiled. “Sorry. Zoned out for a second. Is it my turn?”

“Actually, I was saying I should leave,” said Gus. “My dad will have dinner ready soon. Do you wanna walk back to Bonesborough together?”

“I…think I’ll stay for a little longer.” She glanced at Luz. “If that’s okay?”

“Of course!” Luz smiled brightly.

Willow smiled back. As the afternoon of homework and games had progressed, Luz had slowly emerged from her shell, her laughter growing steadily freer.

But as soon as Gus left, she deflated like an eggflower at harvest. Her eyes shut, her head tilted backward into the couch’s seat, and her smile melted into a look of utter exhaustion.

Willow hesitated. Then she reached for Luz’s hand.

The little touches that characterized their friendship—hugs, holding hands, linking arms—had felt so easy before. So thoughtless. Now Willow found herself faced with a careful choice. Would Luz see this as a friend kind of touch, or something more? If Willow escalated even further—offering, say, a hug—would she get the wrong idea?

As soon as their hands met, Luz smiled without opening her eyes. She squeezed and didn’t let go.

From the next room over, a misenchanted clock ticked a jerky, irregular beat. Sweat pooled on Willow’s palm. She looked at Luz’s face, and she thought that maybe she’d like to find out what kissing was all about.

“On a scale of seven to ten,” she found herself saying, “how bad are you feeling right now?”

Luz’s eyes fluttered open, and she exhaled in a whoosh. “Uh…eight? Eight and a half?”

Willow nodded sagely.

“Wait,” Luz said, “is ten good or—”

“Do you want a hug?”

Before Willow could chastise herself for the question, Luz nodded and stretched out her arms.

After that, it became a ritual: whenever they hung out at the Owl House—which was almost every day for the next week—Willow departed last, and only after she and Luz had cuddled.

Willow likewise made a point of showing up early to school every day, giving her time for a quick pre-homeroom conversation. She usually found Luz in an agreeable enough state—lacking her typical cheer, but not utterly distraught.

The eleventh Bardsday was an exception.

“Willow!”

She had a quick glimpse of Luz’s overjoyed face before she found herself wrapped in a hug.

“Willow, Willow, Willow!” Luz laughed aloud, a note of pure elation. “You won’t believe what happened!”

“What?” Willow couldn’t contain her own sudden excitement—Luz’s energy proved infectious, as always—nor could she stop the blush that spread across her face.

Luz backed away from the hug and grabbed Willow’s hands. “It was a mistake! A big stupid misunderstanding! It was a lie serum, not a truth serum!”

Willow blinked. She ran through past conversations, trying to figure out what Luz was talking about. Truth serum…the realization dawned just before Luz spelled it out.

“Amity! The whole thing, it was—okay, well, first of all, apparently Amity has a crush on me, can you believe it? And she was afraid I didn’t like her back, you know how her biggest fear was—wait, was I her Grom crush? Wow, okay, alright—but anyway, Edric said she was trying to reverse a love potion…”

Luz spoke almost too frantically to follow, but Willow got the gist—and her heart sank ever further into her shoes.

“…but she doesn’t know I’ll be there! It’ll be great! A big awesome romantic gesture. Actually, can I get your help with a spell? I don’t think I could make it work with a plant glyph.”

“Of course!” Willow said, sounding very chipper. “This is so exciting! So…you definitely like Amity?”

“Yeah,” Luz said, looking suddenly bashful. “Learning that she likes me—I dunno. It kind of made me realize my own feelings. Or strengthened them?” She laughed. “I actually have no idea! This is all so confusing, I love it!”

You need to tell her, Willow realized. Right now.

She opened her mouth—and the bell screamed.

At least they shared their first class today; they walked arm in arm to the greenhouse, Willow unsteady on her feet.

“I want to summon a bouquet of flowers as soon as she walks in.” Luz kept her voice low, evidently nervous that Amity might be nearby. “Could you do that? On a delayed timer? Oh, and it’s really important that they’re small white blossoms with five petals each. Sorry, this is a lot to ask of you. I can just bring flowers from the greenhouse. Hey, are you okay?”

Willow blinked. She must have looked as sick as she felt. “Y-yeah. Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, that’s all.” She swallowed. “I don’t think the spell should be a problem. I’m not great at enchantments, but that one doesn’t sound too complex.”

Luz beamed at her. “You. Are. The. Best friend. Seriously, thank you so so so much!”

“Yep!” Willow squeaked.

Professor Ash’s students spent each class doing basically whatever they wanted, as long as it was horticultural or herboarcanological in nature. With the entire non-deadly half of the greenhouse at her disposal, Willow would have no trouble fulfilling Luz’s request. Almost as if the Titan himself was on Amity’s side.

It wasn’t until Luz’s hands lay outstretched before her, covered in blossom seeds, that Willow found her courage.

“Wait.” The spell circle she’d started fizzled out as her finger froze in midair.

Luz frowned. “What is it?”

Tell her. Just do it.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Willow said. “I know you think you’ve got it all figured out, but…you could be wrong.”

To her surprise, that actually gave Luz pause. A cloud passed over her face. But then…

“I know,” she said—resolutely, with that I’m Luz Noceda and you’d have an easier time swimming around the world than changing my mind attitude. “I want to do it anyway.”

Willow nodded. And got to work.

For the rest of the day, she held it together. Gritted her teeth through class after class, although she could barely think straight. She took the long way home, and it was almost dark when she arrived; even so, she had the place to herself.

Ambient magic was a funny thing. It manifested strongest in powerful bursts of emotion. But there were subtle changes, too. Her bedroom flora had darkened since this morning, some turning deep green, others purple. And one would think Willow a neglectful gardener for all that they drooped and wilted.

“Sorry, friends,” she said, sinking into her mattress. “Not really feeling up to it today.”

Ping.

The impale-me-nots instantly shot up, betraying Willow’s surge of hope. She summoned her scroll. Sure enough, the message was from Luz.

It was selfish to wish for another catastrophe—to pray that Luz once again knew Amity for the monster she was. She held her breath as she opened the text.

update: we're girlfriends now!

Every single plant in the room turned brown, and Willow wept.