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With a sigh, Fitz Fellow stood up from where he was kneeling beside the potted flower in the window of Penny’s room. He wiped his brow with the hand that wasn’t holding his ornate trowel, engraved with his and Penny’s initials connected by a heart.
As usual, his fiancé, Penelope Pointer, was in the aviary, enjoying the company of her birds. Fitz had taken the opportunity to once again sneak into her room to check on the plant. The flower that he had spent countless hours painstakingly breeding, getting the colors and shapes precisely correct until it bore a striking resemblance to Penny. Fitz had been so proud of himself when he finally got the flower just right to capture Penny’s sumptuous beauty.
Indeed, Penny was the very picture of sophistication. Her scarlet hair was always perfectly coiffed. Her clothing was always impeccable, styled with a dramatic flair and accentuated with elegant jewelry. A few years older than Fitz, Penny dressed and spoke like a classic Hollywood actress. Fitz had been absolutely smitten with Penny from the moment he met her. Truth be told, he thought she was very far out of his league. He was just a quiet, bumbling horticulturalist, terrible at conversation and only truly comfortable when he was alone with his plants. But he could dream about someone as glamorous and confident as Penny taking interest in a young man as boring and awkward as himself.
On that account, Fitz had been absolutely stunned when he was told about the arranged marriage - that he and Penny would wed in order to finally put an end to the squabbling between the Fellow and Pointer families. It was like a dream come true. He just hoped that she would be as happy about it as he was.
Fitz had set out to be the ideal fiancé to Penny. He wanted to be every bit the man she deserved. He was kind and courteous, thoughtful and gentlemanly. His social skills could definitely use some improvement, but he tried his best. And he showed his affection for her in other ways - foremost, the potted plant.
Fitz had been so excited to show Penny the plant he had worked so hard on. To make his affection for her unmistakably clear, he had even planted it in a pink pot with a heart on it. To his disappointment, however, Penny seemed indifferent to the gift. Of course, she thanked him and made a show of her gratitude, but even Fitz, who often had trouble reading people, could sense that she wasn’t being genuine. He was disappointed and more than a bit embarrassed, feeling like he had made a fool of himself.
That interaction put the first crack in his perspective of her, a fissure that would grow deeper and longer and branch off into a spiderweb of other cracks over time. Fitz had thought that they were getting along well. She seemed to find their interactions pleasant and to enjoy his affections. Fitz would start to realize, though, that she simply liked the attention; she didn’t much care from whom it came.
Rather than giving up, however, Fitz had desperately decided that he could fix things. Penny could learn to love him the way he loved her; he was sure of it. He just had to try even harder.
To Fitz, the potted plant became a representation of his relationship with Penny. If he could just keep the plant alive, then maybe the relationship could survive, as well.
So, a short time later, after visiting Penny in the aviary, Fitz snuck into her room to check on the flower. Dismayed to see it wilting, Fitz lovingly watered and pruned it. It was clear that Penny hadn’t been taking care of it, but Fitz wouldn’t let that shake him. He made a point to check in on it regularly, almost every day, to take care of it.
After weeks of this, the plant was thriving. The relationship, however, had never been worse.
Fitz felt like Penny took him for granted. She obviously enjoyed his attentions, but she made no effort to get to know him. All she did was talk about herself. He was beginning to resent her shallow and conceited nature. He visited her less frequently now, spending more time in the tranquil silence of the greenhouse with his plants. Penny rarely left the aviary - she almost never came outside to visit him. He was starting to resign himself to the idea of a political marriage, rather than a marriage of love. He felt disappointed and lonely.
Shaking himself out of his thoughts and back to reality, Fitz finished brushing the blue soil off of his ornate trowel and into the flowerpot, and then he snuck back out of Penny’s room to return to the greenhouse.
When he walked through the doorway that led out to the top of the Pointer-side staircase in the grand hall, Fitz ran smack into Poppy Pointer, Penny’s younger cousin.
Fitz wasn’t very close with Poppy, but they got along well whenever they interacted. He liked that she, like him, saw no value in small talk and had an appreciation for silence. He also thought her dark and mysterious goth look was cool. He admired that she was who she wanted to be, even if others didn’t understand.
“Sorry, Poppy,” Fitz said softly, reaching out one of his enormous hands to gently steady her arm and help her regain her balance.
“My bad,” Poppy replied with a shrug.
Fitz figured she must be returning from the music room; she spent most of her time in there playing hauntingly beautiful melodies on the piano. Fitz had always enjoyed Poppy’s music.
On a normal day, his and Poppy’s conversation would most likely have ended there, but Fitz had hit a low point in his relationship with Penny, and he was feeing especially lonely and vulnerable.
“Hey, Poppy?” Fitz asked tentatively. “Do you want to see something I’ve been working on in the greenhouse?”
Poppy looked at him, cocking her head to the side thoughtfully.
“Sure,” she replied, and she followed him outside.
In the greenhouse, Fitz showed Poppy the potted fruit that he had worked so hard to breed. Its skin was hard and translucent and sparkled in the light like a jewel.
Poppy regarded the gemstone fruit for a moment, and then she turned to Fitz.
“It’s beautiful,” she said simply, and it was clear to Fitz that she meant it genuinely.
This turned out to be the start of a whole new friendship between Fitz and Poppy. Each lonely in a different way, they both felt a need for company and a profound yearning to be understood, even if they didn’t realize it directly. And understand each other they did, on a level neither one had experienced before. They had deep, thoughtful conversations interspersed with long stretches of comfortable silence, just sitting and enjoying each other’s presence. They started spending a lot of time in the greenhouse together. Sometimes Poppy would play music for Fitz, which he earnestly enjoyed.
After a couple weeks of this, Poppy interrupted an enjoyable silence to ask Fitz about something that surprised him: the locked door in his bedroom.
Fitz knew about the door, of course, but he had never figured out how to open it. It didn’t have a traditional handle or lock. He could see through the window that the door led out to an abandoned rooftop garden and that there was another door across the way. Not one for investigating, Fitz had simply shrugged his shoulders and assumed that the door was merely decorative. He spent very little time in his bedroom anyway, much preferring the lush, calming environment of the greenhouse. The door had eventually faded into the background of Fitz’s awareness, blending into the walls of his bedroom until Fitz barely noticed it anymore.
Poppy’s inquiry brought the door back to Fitz’s mind, and he shrugged, explaining that he had assumed it wasn’t functional. Poppy let Fitz know that the other door across the rooftop garden led to her bedroom, which was news to Fitz. The only places he had visited in Pointer tower were Penny’s room, the aviary, and the music room, so he hadn’t known where Poppy’s room was or how to get to the rooftop garden from the other side.
When Fitz asked whether Poppy had been able to get her door to open, she shook her head. However, she let him know that she had an idea about how they might be able to do so.
“Have you ever seen adjacent rooms in a hotel,” she asked, “where the door between them has to be unlocked on both sides before it can be opened? I think the doors to the rooftop garden might work the same way.”
She asked to see the door in his room.
Fitz led Poppy up the Fellow-side staircase to his bedroom. He opened the door to the room, letting her inside and feeling strangely nervous. He told himself that this was a normal reaction, as he almost never had anyone in his room and he was a bit embarrassed about the state of things - his room was utilitarian and very sparsely decorated, and there were some dirty dishes on the floor next to his bed. Fitz swallowed and tried to ignore his nerves, following Poppy into the room.
After a brief glance around the room, Poppy walked up to the outer door. She slid open the strange box where the handle should be. Fitz had never been able to figure out how it worked.
“These symbols,” she said thoughtfully, “they look familiar.”
Poppy cocked her head to the side, thinking. Then her eyes widened in realization, and she began fiddling around with the tiles in the box.
While she worked, she explained, “The box on my door is similar. There are symbols on it, and I think I need to line these tiles up with the placement of the symbols on my door.”
Sure enough, there was a satisfying clicking noise, but the door still wouldn’t open.
“Come with me,” Poppy said, excitement in her eyes, grabbing Fitz’s hand and pulling him back toward the staircase.
Poppy led Fitz down the Fellow-side staircase, into the grand hall, and then up the Pointer-side staircase to Poppy’s own room. Fitz felt even more nervous being in Poppy’s room. He had never been with a girl in her bedroom before (for, of course, Penny wasn’t aware of Fitz sneaking into her room to tend the flower). Fitz was acutely aware that Poppy’s hand still held his.
Fitz looked around at the dark, gothic decor of Poppy’s bedroom as she led him to her outer door. She finally dropped Fitz’s hand - he found himself relieved but strangely disappointed - and slid open the box, fiddling with the tiles again.
“Aha!” Poppy said triumphantly, and they heard the clicking noise again before the door swung open.
Poppy and Fitz stepped out onto the rooftop garden. The sun shone down on their faces, and their hair blew gently in the soft breeze. Some plants were overgrown and messy, others wilting and brown, but the space was beautiful. A golden bridge stretched over a small pond. Past the balcony, Fitz and Poppy could see the shimmering surface of the lake, surrounded by the tall, jagged peaks of the mountains. It was so peaceful up here.
After his initial wonderment wore off, Fitz was drawn to the mess of plants. He knelt down and began pruning and weeding, trying to do some initial rehabilitation. He decided that he would come back up here later with all of his garden tools and fix things up properly.
Poppy came over and watched him for a moment. She asked him about what he was doing, and he began to teach her the basics of gardening. Fitz was pleased to see that she seemed genuinely interested in his hobby, and he found that he enjoyed teaching her.
Fitz and Poppy spent the rest of the day on the rooftop garden, and then most of the next day, and the day after that. Poppy became Fitz’s assistant, handing him tools and refilling his watering can. While they still enjoyed many comfortable silences, they found that it was easier to open up to one another when their hands were busy at work. They had deep conversations about their childhoods, their passions, and their dreams.
Fitz soon all but forgot about Penny. Before he knew it, weeks had gone by, and he had grown very close to Poppy. Her presence rejuvenated him and dissipated the loneliness that had overcome his heart for so long. He enjoyed spending time with her, especially on the rooftop garden. They still hung out sometimes in the greenhouse or in the music room, but there was something so comforting about the tranquil, secluded garden.
One morning, while Poppy was in the music room practicing piano, Fitz finished his work in the greenhouse and walked up to the rooftop garden. He lifted his face to the sun and sighed contentedly, enjoying the fresh air and the breeze, which he didn’t experience inside the greenhouse. He pruned the rosebush and looked out over the lake, taking in the sight of the cliffs across the water.
To his surprise, Fitz heard the flapping of wings and looked up to see a bright yellow bird with green markings fly over the garden. It looked very familiar - just like one of Penny’s birds from the aviary. What was the bird’s name again? Fitz wondered to himself. Tammy? Tatiana? Oh, right, it was Tabatha. But how could Tabatha be here, outside in the open? Penny kept Tabatha in a cage and only let her out occasionally to fly inside the aviary. Penny never let her birds outside.
Fitz shrugged to himself and assumed that it must be a coincidence; this must just be a different yellow bird.
Later that night, Fitz was having trouble sleeping. Seeing the yellow bird had reminded Fitz of Penny and their unhappy relationship. He had been so smitten by Penny in the beginning, but, if he was honest with himself, he didn’t even like her anymore. He didn’t want to marry her, and he was panicking, thinking of the loveless, lonely life that he would inevitably lead if he wed her. All the time that he had spent with Poppy recently had been a stark contrast to his interactions with Penny. Where Penny was self-centered and shallow, Poppy was caring and thoughtful. Penny talked about herself so much and never listened, while Poppy was comfortable with silence and asked Fitz deep, profound questions. Fitz thought about the nervousness he had felt when Poppy had touched his hand, and he realized with a start that he was falling for her.
How could he do this? How could he fall in love with the cousin of his fiancé? But it was too late now; he had already fallen. Fitz didn’t know what to do - he needed to think. He climbed out of bed and walked out to the balcony, standing in the moonlight and taking deep breaths of the chill night air to try to calm himself down. He leaned over the railing and stayed there for a long while, thinking and pondering and realizing the depths of his love for Poppy. He loved her in a way he had never experienced before. He realized that his supposed love for Penny had really just been desire for the idea of her. His love for Poppy was something else entirely - it was built on a deep appreciation for who she was as a person. He didn’t think he’d be able to turn off his feelings and pretend to be happy with Penny. He didn’t know what to do.
Suddenly, Fitz was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of a door opening behind him. He turned around to see Poppy stepping out of her room.
And suddenly he saw her like he had never seen her before. Her face was illuminated by the moonlight, which gleamed off of her long, shiny hair. How had he never noticed how stunningly beautiful she was? Fitz’s breath caught in his lungs as he stared at her as though for the first time.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Poppy asked, her soft voice waking Fitz from his reverie. He shook his head.
“Me neither,” said Poppy, coming over to stand next to him by the balcony.
Fitz was intensely aware of the presence of her body as she came close to him. He swallowed and tried to remember how to act normally.
Poppy leaned on the railing and looked out at the moon shining above the mountains. They stood there for a while in silence that seemed to be comfortable for Poppy but was unusually uncomfortable for Fitz. He told himself that he was overreacting, and he tried to calm himself down.
Then, however, Poppy shivered in the chill night air. Without thinking, Fitz wrapped his arm around her to warm her up. She looked up at him and met his eyes, and that’s when everything fell apart. Fitz was overcome with love for her, standing here with her pressed up against him in the moonlight. He knew that his eyes betrayed the love he felt for her. But, wait - he may have been imagining it, but he thought he saw something similar in her eyes.
“Poppy,” he whispered, staring desperately into her eyes, “I—”
Before he could finish, Poppy reached up and pulled his head down to hers, kissing him with so much love and passion that Fitz thought he would melt. He wrapped his other arm around her and returned her kiss heatedly.
Their kiss grew stronger and hungrier, and Fitz felt desperate for her, deep down in his core. When Poppy’s lips left his and moved across his jaw to his neck, Fitz couldn’t stop the lustful moan that escaped him. He would have been embarrassed were it not for the fiery, wanton gaze with which Poppy responded before diving back into his neck with invigorated ardor.
Fitz was overwhelmed with desire, moaning as Poppy’s lips moved from his throat to his ear, kissing and sucking on his lobe.
“Fitz,” she whispered, her breath hot in his ear, making him shiver, “I want you.”
At those words, Fitz couldn’t hold himself back. He lifted Poppy up and carried her to the bridge, laying her down upon it and covering her body with his. As they kissed, Poppy’s lithe hand trailed down his chest and abdomen until she reached the waistband of his pants. She pulled her mouth off of his and looked up at him with a question in her eyes. Fitz was too far gone to even think about it; he immediately nodded desperately and brought his lips down to her neck.
Poppy reached inside the layers at his hips and grasped Fitz’s hard cock, and the resulting groan from Fitz was so loud that Poppy shushed him.
“Shh!” she whispered urgently. “Someone will hear you!”
Fitz buried his head in her neck and fought down the noises that threatened to spill from his lips as she stroked him. It didn’t take long at all before he was ready to explode, and he pulled away from her before he could do so.
He grasped the hem of her long, dark nightgown and looked at her.
“May I?” he asked.
“Please!” she moaned, her voice filled with desperation.
Fitz pulled her skirt up to her waist, tracing his huge hands along her legs as he did so, making her shiver. He touched the insides of her thighs and slowly moved his fingers to the juncture of her legs, covered by the fabric of her underwear. He stroked up her slit through the fabric, which was soaked, a revelation that made Fitz’s dick twitch in his pants. Poppy moaned softly beneath him, squirming her hips as he teased a large finger at her entrance, pushing the fabric slightly inside her before finding her clit and circling it. Fitz brought his mouth to her center and licked a wet stripe up the fabric covering her slit, making her moan.
Suddenly, Fitz pulled off Poppy’s underwear and briefly marveled at the beauty of her bare body before returning to the task at hand. He found her clit with his mouth and licked it slowly while his finger stroked her sopping slit. Then he gently pushed a large finger inside her while he sucked hard on her clit, which caused Poppy to arch her hips up into his mouth. Poppy was gasping for breath as Fitz curled his finger and stroked her. After a moment, he added a second finger while he continued sucking on her clit, and Poppy’s moans started to get dangerously loud. Fitz clamped his free hand over Poppy’s mouth to stifle her moans, which only seemed to turn her on more. He could feel her getting close, and he continued his efforts, paying close attention to her reactions. Poppy’s body trembled as she built up to her finish, and suddenly her body went taut and started shaking as her eyes rolled back in her head and her moans got their loudest. Fitz licked and stroked Poppy through her orgasm until her body went slack.
Fitz pulled his fingers out of her and lay down beside her, staring up at the moon while she recovered, gasping for breath.
Once Poppy’s breathing began to steady, she climbed atop Fitz and kissed him hard.
“That was incredible,” she whispered. “I want you inside me now.”
Fitz groaned, his dick somehow getting even harder, as Poppy pulled his pants and underwear down to his thighs to free him. She shifted to hover above his hard length, lining his tip up with her entrance.
“May I?” she asked seductively, using his words from earlier.
“God, yes, please!” Fitz exclaimed, desperate to feel her around him.
Poppy wasted no time, sinking down on him until he was fully sheathed inside her, both of them moaning at the sensation. Poppy began to move, riding him slowly and then increasing her pace. Fitz grabbed her hips and thrust up into her in time with her motions. He was starting to get close again.
He trailed one of his hands over to where their bodies met, and he rubbed circles around her sensitive clit, building her up to her second orgasm. She moaned in bliss and quickened her thrusts until she fell over the edge for the second time, her core spasming around his hard cock and causing him to reach his release, as well. He spilled inside her, and they rode out their orgasms together. When they were done, Poppy fell forward onto Fitz’s chest, his cock still inside her. They caught their breath together, completely satiated.
Fitz didn’t think he had ever felt happier. The woman he loved felt the same way about him. He didn’t know what the future held, but he knew that this was too good to give up. He would figure out a way to end things with Penny and be with Poppy. But, for now, he simply wrapped his arms around Poppy and enjoyed the afterglow with her.