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That night, Peony blames the lipstick. Years later, with alcohol and his head in Nephry’s lap, he’d confess it was because it was Saphir.
But for now, the sun is still settling down on Grand Chokmah and each window tinted in sea mirrored sunlight. The streets are quiet due to the evening’s chilly winds but one person was grateful for the lack of witnesses. Peony grins, and keeps a lazy pace on the main street for once. Without hoards of people or guards, only silence accompanies the beauty of the city and he savors it- but he didn't escape the palace to have a stroll.
Peony was supposed to be in keterburg but he managed to talk his way into a temporary visit to grand chokmah. To see his father, of course- but his real mission was inside the military academy. He managed to dodge his guards on the way out and hopefully, his pair of nerds wouldn’t be able to dodge him! The prince frowns but tries to keep his levity- No matter how deep Jade and Saphir dig this hole, he won’t let them get away with their fomicry experiments. How effective his efforts have been thought…
Peony sighs, passing through the academy gates towards the men’s dormitories. Unfortunately, before the entrance he spots a group of students so he ducks into the bushes and climbs up a tree. It was pairs of boys and girls, all wearing formal wear. Peony noted with light annoyance that everyone was less leaving and more preoccupied with ridiculing a guy. His suit was askew, and his cheeks red and sweaty- in his hands was a crumbled pink bouquet that he threw to the ground after a friend pat him on the back. They kept teasing him, so peony just smiles distantly, leaning back in the tree listening to the nostalgic tune of mockery.
Jade, even if he didn’t admit it, was starting to wear down. Peony could see the way his mask got colder with each failure- mistake after mistake that Jade could not undo. Even if emotions or ethics couldn't sway him, they still chip away at his resolve. Jade had never had a good handle on noticing when he had emotions. It was suffocating, sometimes- but Peony knows himself well enough for when to back off and has known Jade long enough to know when all that can change his mind is time. The hard one, of course, would be in the one who barely operates on logic or ethics- Saphir.
When the students finally left, Peony made his way to the pair’s room. He wonders if the students here really could just, choose who they room with; or if administration had been too afraid to put Jade with anyone sane enough to be afraid of him. If it’s the former, Peony snickers at the mental image of Saphir clinging onto Jade’s door like a yowling stray until Jade realized he’d get more sleep ignoring Saphir with him in the room rather than out of it. He quirks his head when the door opens as he tries the lock, before smiling deviously. If it’s not locked, then one of them was here. He throws open the door, and flops down into Jade's desk chair. He crosses his arms behind his head, and looks dully at Saphir's messier side of the room, his bed angled directly towards where Jade slept.
It’s not that it wasn’t obvious.
Saphir is in love with Jade. And knowing that should make him simple.
Yet when Peony makes some sense from Saphir's actions, he does something completely nonsensical. That crybaby's concept of love was like a muddy slush of footprints in the snow yet peony just couldn't seem to catch up. He could recall everything and understand none of it, except that he is a irritating, volatile and lonely mess. Every act of quiet devotion followed by a foolish cry for attention. Saphir could sing Jade's praises as he’s ignored then curse Jade’s existence when Jade teases him. Peony even noticed that Saphir wordlessly makes their every meal, a menial and constant task that until recently, peony assumed they just ordered out. It was certainly a more demanding task worthy of appreciation than the commemorations Saphir demands for his more frivolous weird machines.
Though nowadays, his fickle temper just got more erratic around others yet completely suppressed around Jade. The few times Peony got to be around them at the academy was...depressing. Peony gritting his teeth next to Jade, who just curls into his papers and inks. Saphir ignored Peony entirely and carried on one sided dialogues interspersed with the occasional glare from Jade to shut him up. It was like that everytime, Saphir thoughtlessly trailing or trembling after Jade. Terrified of what he is about to do for Jade without hesitation. Because Saphir always does whatever is asked of him of course, because- because, for Jade, Peony supposed. His memory of him anyway, considering the fonist has sunken so deep into guilt that he has the personality of a morally maligned whiteboard after The Accident.
(Eventually the trembling changed though, didn't it? Hesitance became a clinical boredom within the gore. It scared Peony, the first time he saw the change in such a gentle boy- now it made sense, in a macabre way, like seeing a deer bent into a bird in a dead winter. You can only experiment on semi people for so long before flesh hums like machinery cries- white noise)
At most, Peony could recognize it was powerful enough that words won’t change Saphir’s mind. Maybe Love didn't have a meaning for Saphir but it was an impulse, an instinct, inevitable as a breath of air is before and after the heart. An uncontrollable and unchangeable just is like Yulia’s score.
Peony gave up trying to understand completely- The love he has for Nephry is so stark in difference. When the world is horrible, with no true answer or better choice- he has Nephry. He loves her and knew she loves him back, even if the chance to be together was dwindling by the day. Saphir probably counts not being told to leave as Jade’s Definitive Declaration of Adoration. And as much as Peony enjoys teasing the fontechnician, a part of him aches for his friend who acts as if he doesn’t have anything or anyone else.
“Not even me.” Peony thought bitterly.
“Not even Jade, really.”
The thought is a soothing balm to a weird bit of jealously that Peony keeps wrapped and tucked in his chest. A strange little yarn ball of feelings that Peony doesn’t have any idea what to do with on most days. In Keterburg, he’d chalked it up to annoyance that a messy whiny weirdo was attached to the hip of his best friend and crush. Always talking to Jade about things no one could understand or getting to hold Nephry’s hand when they stumbled after Peony and Jade. It made Peony feel like, it should be him that gets to do that stuff! Especially considering the Balfours actually liked him.
(Nephry frowned horribly when he said that once. But when he tried to correct it, she stomped away and spent the entire day playing house with only Saphir. It had only made him bully Saphir afterwards harder. poor fella just can’t win.)
But after Saphir chased Jade to Grand Chokmah, Peony found himself missing the crybaby as much as the devil. He shocked himself the first time he turned around, hoping to see Saphir staggering after him and Nephry, just like usual. Not that they weren’t friends- Peony wasn’t about to let Saphir slide with pretending they weren’t friends. For all their bickering, Saphir had begrudgingly helped with his homework and hastily mended his torn clothes before he got in trouble. Meanwhile Peony had held his trembling cold hand after Jade almost drowned him and gave him snacks when his mom didn’t feel like feeding him. y'know, friend stuff.
But there was still a lot of bickering.
When they were kids, Peony let that ball of feelings erode most of his impulses- pulling on Saphir's hair or pushing him into the snow banks. Jade and Peony chasing him till he would climb trees only to be urged down by Professor Nebilim. Messing with Saphir was like pulling at the thread in your clothes- it was fun!... But once the weave of the shirt sleeve was unraveling, he’d realize he probably shouldn’t have been doing either. The Thread and Saphir, pulling and pushing respectively. Looking back, he wonders if he had been a little nicer to Saphir, things would be different now.
But that ball of feelings inside of him would resurface crystal clear memories of angry purple eyes and his tighten jaw. How he seethes when he thinks no one is looking, or at least, when he knew Jade wasn’t looking. Even when peony had tried to be nice to him, there was too much suspicion on the boy’s end to enjoy those little moments. Saphir eyeing birthday gifts peony gave him with suspicion or saphir snapping at the prince when peony picks up his fallen papers. The fontechnician chipping a nail but continuing to rip up Jasper’s shirts despite the boy’s ambivalence towards Saphir. As if Jasper was here to steal Jade away rather than being forced as class president to interact with the volatile scientists.
Peony feels better then, knowing that stuff, because really; Saphir was too young when he fell in love and too lonely to realize both he and Jade could have other friends.
There was no saving him, really.
The rush of water in the bathroom startles him, and he sits up, alarmed. He stands slowly, realizing with a grin it could be Saphir or Jade! He creeps up to the door, standing on the opposite side of it, waiting to scare whoever came out (Jade would probably already know he’s there, but if it was Saphir, the screech he’d let out would be hilarious). When nobody comes out, Peony frowns before pressing his ear against the door. It opens slightly and he panics- He likes fun but he did NOT want to see either of his childhood friends on the toilet
but then he stops.
In the sliver of the door, he can see Saphir but the boy is too enraptured in what he’s doing to notice Peony. Saphir sat perched on the counter, but Peony could see the bright green on his bottom lips through the reflection. It was uneven rather than neat like he’d seen on aristocrats. Judging by the wad of tissues Saphir dabbed at his lips, this was not a first attempt. There are tears streaking down his cheeks but these are different than Saphir's normal tears. Saphir bawls and sniffles, shaking his fists or stomping with snot dripping everywhere. It’s gross but kinda funny. This time though, only droplets crept down his face now. He is quieter than Peony has ever known Saphir to be capable of and that ball of feelings in his chest falls into old habits. Before he could think on it, Peony shoves the door open.
Saphir screeches.
Peony rushes forward and shoves his hand over Saphir's lips and the boy’s shock turned rage.
“Don’t! Don’t yell, it’s just me.” Peony whispers, and the boy’s mouth trembles against his fingers with many different vocalizations of pea-brain. (There were quite a few, and Peony enjoys seeing how many Saphir can come up with). Peony glances at the sink, and his shoulders jump to see a rather bloody aftermath around the drain. When he looks back down at Saphir's face, he could see a wad of toilet paper up his nose with a bruise dotting the corner of his forehead and. Saphir biting down-
Peony swore and yanks his hand back, cradling it. He glares at Saphir but couldn’t help snickering at how lipstick smears across his chin now. Saphir snaps. “What!?”
“Oh man, you look- haha!”
Saphir's eyes widen and he covers his mouth, turning away. “Leave me alone!”
Peony chuckles but finally notices that Saphir isn’t wearing his uniform. Instead he’s wearing a knit purple jacket over a nice baby blue button up and a pair of black mid calf pants. His military boots have been switched out for light blue socks and loafers. It’s a mess. But it’s not rare to see Saphir wear such mismatched clothes, and to be fair, it was worse when they were younger. There is, however, an unusual level of effort in this outfit’s color coordination that makes him a pause.
Saphir suddenly looks nervous at Peony, as he twists his sleeves in front of him and his eyes darting around the bathroom. He has quiet down but his frown was being tempered with tiny questioning glances up at him. He stares at peony for a bit, as if waiting for him to say something. Oh, he’s probably wondering-
“I’m here on a visit to my father but only officially- I’m here to check up on you two.” Peony winks and Saphir scowls, and turns away with a huff, swiping at some of the worst of the tissues into the trashcan.
When Peony looks at his hand, he could see the mess of green still between his fingers. He perks up when he sees the green cosmetic still on the floor. Saphir must have dropped his makeup during the tussle so Peony picks up the rather sad almost depleted lipstick. He frowns and reads the label.
“Lush Jade...seriously, Saphir?”
Saphir pivots, his face a furious red and trembling as he tries to yank the tube back. Peony laughs, holding it just out of reach above the scientist as they stumble around each other in the bathroom. “Give it back! I just! Pea brain you stupid…”
Saphir’s normal tears start up again and Peony presses his hand on Saphir's forehead to keep him away. After Saphir backs off swiping at Peony’s arm, the prince guffaws at the sloppy green lip imprints on Saphir's forehead. The scientist narrows his eyes but he glances in the mirror and freezes. The boy yanks a wad of tissue off a roll and wipes furiously at his head. All it does is spread the green into his forehead creases, before he remembers to wet it. His face is soaking once he finishes but Peony hasn’t stopped laughing once. Saphir moistly glares at him, teeth clenching.
He urgently whispers, “Don’t tell Jade!….Don’t tell anyone!”
Peony cocks his head to the side, still smiling, “Why not? You don’t look THAT bad.”
Saphir tenses, glancing down before looking at himself. He's scrubbed his lips raw, and it surprises Peony he hasn’t gotten cut yet. The beads of water mix with the tears and snot running down his face and he looks even more pathetic than usual. The tiny sad look that Saphir gives himself is a weight in Peony’s stomach and damn, if it wasn’t that stupid ball.
“Hey, I could put it on for you, if you want.”
Saphir's neck cracks when he whips his head and hisses, “Stop mocking me! This sort of thing it’s! It’s so stupid-”
The words wobble out and Peony groans before grabbing at Saphir's chin and forcing it to look at him. Peony yanks his head from side to side, ignoring Saphir's squawking before he nods. “Yep, I can work with this.”
Peony lifts the sad little lipstick up to Saphir's lips and the boy is completely still, staring at Peony so intently that the prince couldn’t help staring back. He swallows and watches as Saphir does the same, before his eyebrows furrow. The pouting is ridiculous and Peony can already hear the prelude to a rant.
‘Oh right.’
Peony thinks back to the pockets of memories when he would sit in his mother’s lap as she put on makeup. The soft deep musicality of her voice as she told him stories took up most of the memories, but he still vaguely remembers the motions. Her tiny smiles, her shaking shoulders when he’d told a silly joke. Her pursed lips, the tap of the lipstick against her mouth before she’d coat her lips in two single strokes. In a hushed voice, Peony says “Saphir, purse your lips a little.”
Saphir's eyes are wide, but for once he did as Peony said immediately. It’s endearing from such a stubborn guy. He wonders if this is how Jade feels when Saphir does things for him. The prince carefully traces a heart pattern in the middle of Saphir's lips, the green gliding along the curve of Saphir's mouth. Peony bites his lips and he chuckles when he sees Saphir almost copy him, to the boy’s frustration. Saphir sniffs and closes his eyes, a dusting of pink on his cheeks making his eyelashes blend in. And Peony stares, his warm hand against a shivering cheek with his thumb brushing on Saphir's bruise.
When they had first met, he thought Saphir was a girl because he was just so- pink.
Then he thought it was fake. He’d set a water bucket on a door once to pour onto Saphir which got Peony in trouble. Hilariously, a soaking wet Saphir with the pail still on his head also got in trouble for chasing the prince to smack Peony. He remembers how Professor Nebilim struggled valiantly to bit back an exasperated grin during the collective scolding after trapping a pouty Saphir in a towel wrapped hug. It had been less funny when Saphir got horribly sick and bedridden for a week.
The Professor tasked him to be at Saphir's beck and call during the sickness but fortunately the crybaby was too weak to take advantage of it. Or unluckily, because instead Saphir laid in his pile of old blankets, trembling and coughing as Peony sank into his creaking seat from the guilt. But being 9, the boredom had quickly over ruled the guilt. He’d reach over and play with Saphir's hair despite his whining, threading it between his fingers. He marveled at the pink against his palm, Saphir's eyes hazily watching him and asking for Jade but leaning into his warm hand like a puppy. The ball winds around this memory and fills him with a something he just didn’t understand.
“Don’t move.” Saphir, of course, flinches- but so does Peony. At some point, the prince came close enough that Saphir was backed into the sink, their legs intertwining. This close, he realizes he can smell the blood from Saphir's nose, and feel the boy trembling. How he hadn’t even noticed Saphir clinging onto Peony’s loose arm or that Peony had unconsciously been holding him upright. Peony pulls away, but left his hand on the boy’s chin, turning him gently left and right. Saphir blinks rapidly as if awakening from a daze.
“...Are you done?”
Peony bit his lips but nods, “Yeah! Yeah I’m-”
Saphir twirls around to look at the mirror, a hand to his cheek. Peony wants to be annoyed, but he could only feel that ball knocking around inside him. The green doesn’t match his clothes at all but it’s properly on him now and that seems to be all that matters to the boy. Saphir looks at himself in the mirror with a tiny, gentle smile- the kind Peony hadn’t seen since the professor was still around to coax it out of him. ‘But! But Saphir doesn’t smile like that,’ the bored 9 year old in him piped up, “Saphir never likes anything about himself without permission.’
The prince tastes guilt on his tongue at the thought but the ball soothes it out as usual. Peony remembers how Saphir light up for an entire week once because Jade lightly praised his work on a fon-tech machine. How he's never willingly looked into any reflection and barely bothers to cut his hair with any care. When he soaks up compliments then shakes like a leaf afterwards, waiting for it to turn into a joke.
(When nephry’s letters asking please come visit I’m worried are met with frustratingly obvious sadness thinly veiled in accusations that she thinks he’s weak. How once he came anyway with not a luggage or jacket or word to anyone; but he caught them as he shivered in Nephry’s arms. They hugged each other so tightly that it was more like they were each holding a trembling fist.
Afterwards, Saphir looked up at Peony with a blank glare. He pulled away from Nephry, wrapped himself in his own arms, then marched away to the port. Peony didn’t know what to say then and still didn’t know what to say now.)
It’s not that he doesn’t get better, it’s that he’ll never do it, Peony reasons. There’s nothing he can do when Saphir spirals at the mention of Jade having other friends or cries himself sick over the professor. Running into the cold with a thin jacket or going days without a proper meal. He’s incapable of getting better, Peony thought. He slaps down every attempt to be helped, even by Nephry and he doesn’t want to be around only him and Nephry anyway. No point trying because he loves Jade, not Nephry or Peony. Maybe Nephry and Peony and Jade, or even just Nephry and Jade, but not Peony.
“you look pretty.” Peony blurts out. Saphir gives him a doubtful look and opens his mouth with a brewing anger, before looking back at the mirror. It’s like he’s trying to work up the nerve to look at Peony’s face but instead he just looking down. His shoulders drop before crossing his arms over his chest. He tugs at his shirt collar buttons- He was never good at leaving them alone, the nervous tic leaving his collar bare most of the time. He used to walk around bare chested even in Keterburg, Peony doesn’t doubt it’s driving him crazy to be buttoned up to his neck everyday at the academy.
“Y- Yes, I know that! Luckily for you that I was willing to- to let you-” He stutters over his words before reaching up to thumb at his eyes. He sniffs but that messes with the tissue in his nose.
“ah..!” The stream of blood drips over Saphir's lips, breaking onto his green lips in a vibrant red line. Peony grimaces as Saphir's lips wobble and the scientist ducks his head back down into the sink.
“How’d you even get all that, anyways?” It was weirdly rare to see Saphir banged up so badly nowadays. When they were kids, Saphir had an endless amount of bruises and scratches from their adventures. Here at the academy every one knew to stay out of the way of Jade which inadvertently meant no one picked on Saphir. Add in the lack of snowy forest terrain and there was no real reason for Saphir to be getting hurt. (he did watch Saphir trip on an eraser once though, so. No point worrying about Saphir too badly when he’s his own worst enemy, the scraps are inevitable.)
Saphir flinches, glancing at Peony through the mirror. He turns on the faucet. “No one.”
Peony pauses, and squints at Saphir. “Wait. Was it someone? You didn’t just trip?”
Saphir gulps and nods. “No I- Yes, I tripped!”
Peony’s stomach twists but he asks, “Was it Jade?”
“No!” Saphir snaps, before looking back up at his reflection. “He wasn’t-He’s at the Curtiss’s manor today. It was just some guy.”
“Well who was it?” Peony leans back on the bathroom door, raising an eyebrow.
“Just. Some guy that I was- I don’t know!” Saphir huffs, but the tears are streaming down his face again. He’s always too sensitive, obvious in a way that any noble court would eat him alive. So soft, even though Peony knows better. Maybe before Saphir would cry at the sight of blood but nowadays he wouldn’t flinch at holding a beating heart in his hands. Peony would have guessed that maybe Jade was especially cold today, or a memory haunts Saphir a little too harshly today but right now, Peony’s eyes glazed over the lipstick. The nice clothes. Bouquets.
“Bad date?”
Saphir's shoulders tenses, before he looks at Peony again. The prince’s breath catches in his throat, at the vulnerability in his expression. The ball sours inside him but rumbles with uneasy hope at the possibility. It was wrong, it was different, Saphir shouldn’t know how to behave like this. Saphir is an unreasonable singularity, an impulsive mess in love with Jade. but the mumbling afterwards are like bells ringing in his ears.
“...it's was stupid. He would wave from the window at the labs when he’d see me and Jade. He wrote this… He throw down a note cus he wanted to get dinner with me. But before I got to the meeting spot, we met in the dormitory.” Saphir tightens his fist, and he grazes his hand through his hair to along his head before going up to his nose. “He got mad I wasn’t a girl and...”
Saphir's eyes are swirling with emotions as the boy grips the sides of the sink. His nose bleeding and snot getting everywhere, his shivering face soaked with water and rubbed red. The bruise stood out like a bloom placed by his ear. The lipstick was perfect under the grim and Peony stares. Never knowing what to say, not to Saphir. Not when he needed him, not when he was like this, raw and bitter and hopeless. The ball spiraling tangled threads between his fingers but peony had no idea where to begin to unknot it all. But the implications of what Saphir said swell inside of him, and Peony blurts out.
“Wait, were you going to- Was that a date? Were you going to a date?”
He flinches, and Peony’s little ball bloats less like yarn but like flesh in his throat. Peony’s fist clenching then releasing at Saphir’s wary glance because there’s no way. Saphir in love with Jade, Saphir in devotion. Saphir obscured in blind white miles ahead of Peony with only footprints remaining. Yet the boy in front of him just huffs and picks at his nails. He’s dripping with remorse off his fancy discordant clothes, like he didn’t belong in any of it.
Peony gasps. He shouldn’t ask. Don’t ask.
“Holy shit- WAIT, what about J-”
Saphir slams his palms against the counter, grief splintering over his face. His lips crackle into a sneer and his nose wrinkles with gory disgust, but Saphir's eyes could never hold back tears. “I’m trying to-! I can’t help him, Jade isn’t-!”
Saphir's words spat out, senseless muttering lay like clumps on his tongue but still spilling out. No longer capable of biting his tongue because there was nothing left to bite off. He reached up to rub at his eyes, but held back. “He- I always try my best but- Everything’s so horrible, and no matter what I do, I can’t- there HAS to be an answer or just- some avenue we haven’t tried but he’s not here here-”
Saphir heaves like each breath was heavier than the last. His sobs is like liquid gore that gurgle in his lungs after having spent so long coagulating until his fury boils him over the stained sink. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, his anger shivering through his body but his words fell like a quiet first snow. In a whisper against a love that has drowned and continues to drown Saphir. “He wants me here I know he does but everything used to be so simple. I had him- I had the professor, but- there’s nothing till she’s back. There’s nothing I can do but help fix this so, why-”
Saphir hiccups, and the noble’s hands jerk up. His eyes stinging and the ball inside of him conflates, pressing against his ribs. Peony swore it was warm less like a quilt, but like feverish flesh, was pulsing in the boy's hands. How it thrums in time with his shaking shoulders or deathly still from his tiny smiles. It races, races, races far enough it was safe if Peony looked back to see if he was still ok, Is Saphir ok, can Peony help him even this far away. Jade’s theories then Peony’s Jokes then Saphir's mechanical mumbles. Peony’s hand dipping between Saphir's hand and Nephry’s-
Peony realizes maybe his heart is bigger than he thought.
He hovers over Saphir's shoulder, his hands twitching by their sides as Saphir keeps whispering, ducking low with, Peony realizes, a confessional guilt. “I need to stay by his side, We need to realize our dream. It’s never mattered if he loves me but it scares me, when I- I look around me, there’s nothing when he’s not here. I just thought, maybe someone else could- I just want to know what it would be like-I love him and its ok that he doesn't even- Why can’t it just be simple like always until the professor’s back? And, and after. Of course after... We’ll bring her back and Jade will be ok again...I want him to be ok but there’s moments now, I just want to be told to stay now. I want-”
Saphir's weeping into his hands and Peony doesn't dare cut through the guilty resentment that flourish Saphir. It was an anger Peony didn’t want to understand- but he did, and he couldn’t look away. Every time jade sat with frozen limbs, bent over a table of redone work, remade failures. The Frustration and heartbreak and being shut out again again by him. Peony never likes admitting it but it wears at him being around his best friend, Jade’s guilt hangs off him like smoke. Standing at the precipice of the fumes was unbearable but he never considered before if it was just as hard to be one step behind him. That Saphir chooses deliberately to deny reality because he truly believes he has to suffer to get back Jade’s happiness. Saphir and Jade only getting to be happy if they’re innocent again, if they can be forgiven by the one person no longer here.
That after a thousand steps, Saphir's taking one glance back, arms unfurling around himself. And peony is right here, hands grazing Saphir's shoulder because he could want him, Peony can want saphir, he just has to-
A door slams shut and They both jump.
“Saphir?”
Jade’s voice ring clear from the dorm. They both stare at the door before he repeats himself. “Saphir, I can see your shadow.”
Peony froze and Saphir stumbles over his words. “Y-Yes Jade?”
“I need you to come with me, now.” Saphir's entire being light up at the vague command, as if he hadn’t just been bleeding and crying over heartless boys. It scares Peony, how rapidly Saphir tucks his loneliness back inside himself. As if he doesn’t consider what he said or felt in this moment could have any significance to peony. Saphir doesn’t know how to keep secrets so maybe all of that should have been obvious. Except it wasn’t, not to him and Peony hopes to lorelei that it's never been obvious to Jade.
“Oh, Okay! Give me a minute.”
He hesitates before scrubbing at his lips one last time till they're bare again. He looks normal for Saphir, tear tracks and bruises. Peony hates it. He rips off the knit jacket and kicks off his loafers behind the toilet, hidden away. It's sloppy and obvious, but Peony knows Saphir will notice that Jade won't care when he'll see it. He tries not to think about the fact saphir doesn’t care what peony sees him do.
Saphir gestures to the shower, and Peony blinks before going over to stand inside it. He feels too raw to barge out the door to get the drop on Jade. Saphir cleans off the rest of his face, and stick a new tissue in his nose, still red but cleaner. He couldn’t wash away the tinge of red at his eyes, before Peony realizes with a twinge of- something he maybe knew the name of- that no one would care. Saphir always looks like that. The scientist glances at him, opening his mouth before closing it. A cut finally emerges on his lip after all and Peony stares dumbly at the dribble of red on his lips.
He doesn’t even realize until his thumb has already reached up to wipe it. Saphir is cold but the blood is warm.
Saphir's face flushes pink and for a moment Peony hopes he’s going to stay. Instead Saphir turns off the lights to the bathroom and rushes outside to Jade. Peony hears their muffled voices and the shuffling of clothes in the dorm, but can’t bring himself to listen in. The door shuts and clicks. He glances at the bloody sink and tube of lipstick rolling almost to the edge. Peony picks it up and slides down, sitting in the tube. He can smell Saphir’s shampoo, which is Jade’s shampoo which means Saphir wants to smell like Jade. Peony feels a pounding headache thrum in his head and he groans. The lipstick rolls between his fingers, thumb pressing painfully onto the slick of blood and water droplets sticking to the black tube.
When he finally gets up, he tidies up the bathroom till it's only the trash that glimmers red. He puts the loafers under Saphir’s bed then the folded jacket and bloody lipstick under Saphir’s pillow. The blood he wiped off Saphir had disappeared onto the tube but his fingers are still green so he scrubs his hands raw. Under the cold water, he wonders if he and Saphir have ever been in a room alone together and struggles with remembering till he gives up. He leaves the door as he entered, unlocked and tries not to think too hard about anything at all.
But when he's at the dorm entrance, he sees the remains of the bouquet. It's ruined, trampled with most of the petals already scattered against the ground. He reaches down to twirl a single pink petal between his fingers. He sighs, and makes his way back to the capital.