Lechance

James was stood in front of a florists shop, staring confusedly at the labels adorning the displays of loose flowers that were out in front of him. He put on his glasses, and squinted as he tried to make sense of the name on the tub nearest to him. Exhaling heavily, he turned and saw someone else looking vaguely towards him. "Excuse me, you wouldn't happen to know anything about the language of flowers perchance?"

Wednesday evening found Paul uncharacteristically restless after surgery hours finished. The sun was setting, but the evening remained relatively light, and he went in search of James, pausing in the library doorway at the sound of a violin, not wishing to interrupt necessary practise time. Instead, he leaned against the doorframe, watching the graceful movements of his Beloved's body following the phrasing of the music and the skill of James' fingers moving over the neck of the instrument