I couldn’t stop.

I couldn’t stop pacing back and forth at the back of my tent. The very back. As far away from the entrance as I could possibly be without getting side-looks from the Board passerbys. I seemed to be the only one anxious about the entire affair, the other Moon Guardians passing up the opportunity to see their brother after so long in exchange for some more down time in the nearby lake.

Thus, I was left alone to deal with this problem. A problem I knew had to come up at some point. At some point, Luhan would show me his face. He’d no longer hide behind that door at the end of the hall. I’d see him eventually.

An eventuality that had shudders running up and down my spine.

Or maybe it was the fact that my hair was still wet from earlier.

Maybe I’m a nervous wreck because I never wanted to see him. Because I was scared of what would happen if I did. But fear is a healthy human emotion, isn’t it, Luna?

“Your highness.”

My fingers flinching at the sound of his voice from far behind me, my body trembled like a leaf. There was nothing spectacular about his intonations or his range. It wasn’t deep. It wasn’t shallow. It wasn’t gentle or soft. Or hard or stern. After meeting so many different people, those kinds of adjectives sound generic and empty.

It was just Luhan. 

And that was enough to have me scared out of my mind.

“Wait.” I breathed in, “Just wait.” Then out. 

Twice more again. 

Once more for good luck.

Gulping down on the bundle of nerves in my throat, I finally turned. His first actual words to me were expected. Anticipated. Curiously, he asked, “Why are you wearing that?”

How else would he react to the piece of black cloth I’d wrapped around my eyes?

“So that,” I gulped down again, the hint of a laugh I’d caught at the end of his question threatening to stuff my words back where they came from, “I can’t see you.”

That place being the pit of my stomach, all aflutter no matter how many times my brain ordered it to stop. Threatening to leap out of my mouth as I heard footsteps nearing me. As I felt him right in front of me, not as far away as before.

“Why are you coming closer?”

“So that,” I could practically feel each word he said dance across my face, “you can hear me instead, your highness.” Each syllable and each letter and each , one after the other, “I’m not fond of raising my voice.”

Admittedly, I missed him. I missed his rationalities for everything. I missed the smile I could always hear in his “Just Luhan” voice when he one-upped me. I missed the way he could play with my heartstrings like a fiddle. Raising me up one second, knocking me down the next. I missed him.

But that doesn’t mean I didn’t miss the Sun Guardians as well.

That certainly doesn’t mean I’m not going to be the slightest bit upset at him for showing up out of nowhere when he himself refused to come with me in the first place. For abandoning his post at the Hall of the Guardians. For being so impulsively not Luhan.

With the corners of my mouth tugging downwards on my blindfolded eyes, I pointed out, “You’re fond enough of changing your mind at the drop of a hat.”

“This and that are different things.”

“This and that are both things you’re bending in your own favor right now, Luhan.”

My strong front, however, was short lived.

“Wait!” I backed up, running myself into the pile of bags that belonged to myself and the other Moon Guardians. Retreating like a frightened mouse that could feel the cat’s shadow on its back, I held out a hand in surrender, “Wait. Just wait, okay?” 

Reaching out, attempting to judge the distance between us, my fingertips slipped under the hem of his collar, skimming across a sharp collarbone. I gulped down for the third time, my hand back at my side in an instant. By the time my voice came back, after I dragged it kicking and screaming from the very pits of my fluttering stomach, it was but a submissive whisper.

“When’d you get this close?”

“Your highness,” I felt him shift in front of me again, “do you like me?”

“Of course I do.” 

I moved back so far, I was practically sitting on top of the bags that stalled my escape. Escape from Luhan and the question he asked then. The funny thing is, it wasn’t until he’d finally said it that I plopped down, my legs allowed to rest after endless paces. 

I was still scared. Undeniably. There was no getting rid of that healthy feeling. But, the anxious, tightening, frightening tension flowed out of me. Because the words were finally out there. The looming suggestion that used to hang over me like a wet blanket was wrung out, dried thoroughly, and folded neatly before me. 

“My Seeress, do you love me?”

“You’re quite upfront about this.” 

But that’s his strong point. Being straight-forward about things, good or bad. And here he was, finally refusing to run away from anything, no matter the good or the bad it brought about in the future. 

“Someone told me recently that what I’m feeling isn’t love.” I started, answering his question vaguely, what I felt physically easy to interpret, emotionally a thousand-piece puzzle of the starry sky, “A book I read not long ago warned me against being biased.” 

And his reply was just as ambiguous. 

Just as skeptical as my own.

“Maybe it’s not.” Maybe it’s not love. “Maybe I am.” Maybe he is biased.

Maybe we both are.

Maybe’s just fine as the blindfold falls from my eyes, the knot behind my head that secured it in place undoing itself with a few tugs from his fingers. I still keep my eyes clenched shut because he hasn’t told me yet. He hasn’t told me it’s okay to see him yet. And until he asks me to open them, I’ll not bat a single eyelash.

Unlike me, however, Luhan had traveled too long, missed me too much, to wait to ask for anything as he inched ever forward.

“Please don’t touch me.” I held out a hand again, our proximity shortening by the second, my words jumbled as a result, “If you touch me, I’ll have a vision. I had one this morning already. Having two when I haven’t slept properly in days will be the end of me. And I’m tired. I’m tired, Luhan. I’m—“

“Okay,” was his reply, and I heard him take a step back, rooting himself into the ground who-knows-exactly how many feet in front of me.

Not that him just standing there, being his stomach-fluttering Luhan self, so deafly close my ears strained to hear each breath he took, was much better.

“If you’re going to come with us, we need to set up some boundaries.” I manage after a moment, giving in like I knew I would, previous paces all for naught, “Okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed.

“First, no touching.” 

He disagreed almost immediately, “Does the same go for the others? If not, I’ll get jealous.”

He really was throwing caution to the wind, wasn’t he? Then again, Sehun needed a bit more anyway. 

“You know why it's different with you.”

I could hear his smile again as he said, “I know.” 

“Second, keep your face covered as much as possible.” I nodded to myself, satisfied with this one much more than his answer proved him to be, “I need to get used to you being physically here before I even start focusing on what you look like.”

“It shouldn’t be an issue. I’m told I’m easy on the eyes.”

Yet still, he doesn’t ask me to open my own.

He’s either extremely patient — highly unlikely based upon his recent charmingly rash behavior — or just as scared as I am.

“Thanks for the visual. But, since we’re both ignoring what we’ve been told up until this point in time, neither of us should be taking up another person’s words as our Coat of Arms anytime soon.”

His reply flew into my head, and my facial muscles clenched reflexively.

“Third, no complimenting me in your head.”

“You didn’t like it?” He sounded disappointed and my eyelids held fast. My curiosity to what a disappointed Luhan looked like almost got the better of me.

“It was cheesy.” I argued, “It gave me the chills.”

“I’m not sure if that third one is an actual, well-thought-out rule or if its creation was fueled by your own embarrassment,” he refuted.

“I’m not embarrassed.”

“Your cheeks are red.”

I cleared my throat, “Fourth, no looking at me.”

He took a step forward, “Now you’re just being childish.”

“And you’re not?”

“I’m afraid that no matter what I’m told, rules three and four seem made to be broken.”

And another.

“Luhan!”

“I’m not touching you.”

And he was the one bringing up the word “childish”?

I willed myself to remain sane, “But you’re thinking about it.”

“I’m afraid it’s all I’ve been thinking about since I saw you wearing that ridiculous blindfold.”

And I knew that. I knew he wasn’t lying. I just didn’t know if I wanted him to be or not quite yet.

“Fifth, no thinking about touching me.”

Laughing, surely smiling, he declared, “Impossible.”

I think I’m just a bit crazy, don’t you?

Sitting between rolling hills, twenty or so tall beige buildings peeked over green tree tops with their brilliant orange roofs. Exotians draped in pale pastels greeted us as we first arrived in Flior, the town of flowers. With light skin tones, porcelain complexions, and wide smiles, they welcomed the Boards as though they’d been waiting for years. 

They welcomed us, their Seeress and their Moon Guardians, with the same hospitality. 

The exact same.

“They’re devote followers of the Tree of Life and everything that comes from it.” Henry had taken the time to explain before we arrived, adding with a smile, “That includes you and your precious Guardians, your highness.”

My Guardians: who acted like school children on a field trip as soon as we arrived, not a one neglecting to admire the scenery as we were led to where we could rest for the night. Chen and Xiumin were fascinated by the irrigation system, clear blue water flowing past their outstretched fingertips as they squatted down beside a field of pink and yellow tulips. Upon arriving at the inn, right in the center of the blooming town, Kris and Lay took to lazing around in the trees that hung into the window of our room on the second floor. 

We’d be staying here for a few days before we continued north. Since we’d arrived earlier than expected, the Boards’ meeting with the Mayor of Flior — which I’d be sitting in on thanks to Henry — was pushed forward to tomorrow morning. Meaning we had an entire day to waste away. And as much as I wanted to sleep in, especially after last night, Tao wanted to see the town. 

So, we did. 

We walked up and down the slipping slopes of stairs and walkways, past roses and snap dragons and gardenias. Through cedar and maple trees where the sweet scent of syrup had us stopping for a pastry or two. While it was hard dragging me away from the fluffy, white pancakes of a cafe tucked between pillars of red maple, Tao grew enamored with a patch of sunflowers in particular; their long stalks towering high above him, beaming yellow like the sun above. And I could tell he missed them: his Sun Guardian brethren. 

I could tell without reading his thoughts that while Luhan’s presence made him happy, the hot star in the morning sky was a constant reminder of what he’d left behind. Of what we all left behind. 

Of course, I don’t neglect to mention Luhan — his name popping into my head with frequency as of late. He stood by my side, close enough to reach out and touch if need be — and it certainly wasn’t needed lest my stomach never cease its fluttering. He’s keeping up with rules one and two so far, though three through five are works in progress. 

Lower half of his face covered by a black mask extending from one ear to the other, his eyes were all I could see. 

His eyes were the thing I was avoiding, a blurry bed of brown feather-like hair all I can distinctly recall as I keep us from locking eyes. As I stare on at all the colors of nature that surrounded us in almost dream-like abundance.

But, apparently, it didn’t always look like this.

“The locals say that it was only a handful of days ago that the plants began to grow again.” Victoria told me as we returned to the inn, high-rising ceilings causing her voice to echo across the large space, “Which explains why I almost didn’t recognize this place.”

I didn’t think anything of her comment. I didn’t read her mind until the next day, seeing images that starkly contrasted what I experienced for a handful of precious hours. I couldn’t think at all as I returned from the bathroom late that night and found Zhoumi waiting for me at the door to my assigned quarters.

Eyes brilliant green swirls that were impossible to avoid.

It was then that he spoke to me for the first time.

With a voice that was not too deep and not too shallow. “The soil here went rotten long ago.” Not too gentle but not too stern. “There’s not enough nutrients left in the ground to maintain the gift the Tree of Life has so recently bestowed upon this town.” Intonations giving each and every syllable equal importance with a range that never reached too high or too low. “The people here have forgotten where their roots lie.” 

Balanced and unbiased.

He was giving me advice.

And I wasn’t the kind of fool who’d reject his help.

“What should I do?”

“Sleep outside tonight. In the flower beds. Under the trees. On the ground.” He chanted like a mantra to himself, “The Tree of Life will answer you.”

So, I did. I slept outside. In the fields of poppies. Under the low drooping trees. On the soft ground. And when I woke up to a worried Lay and a quizzical Tao, I knew much more than I had the morning prior.

It’s just a bit funny, don’t you think? You see, I heard it. “Heard what?” You may ask. “A tree talked to you in your dreams?” You may think I’m crazy. 

Or maybe I’ve always been crazy. 

Maybe the Tree of Life’s been waiting for my kind of crazy.

A/N: So, usually, this doesn't happen to me. Usually, no matter how cheesy a scene is, I can write it without even flinching. But that. That scene with Luhan in which his "Rule-Breaker"/"Bad Boy" tendency surfaced had my stomach flipping (just a teensy bit).