Chapter 8: Chapter Eight
Satin and Chenille tapped their chins in unison, pondering Creek's current outfit while he twisted around in front of a long mirror. There were all sorts of colorful clothes and unique accessories littering the floor of the twins' pod, most of which Creek had absolutely no interest in. Although right now, the deep royal purple robe he adorned felt perfect. The material was high quality, pristine, and soft on his skin. The feathered collar was big and puffy, cradling around his neck, and the length dropped just hovering above the ground at his heels. Holding his sleeves in front of him, Creek inspected the arm length and hummed to himself. When it came to making clothes, no one in Troll Village was better than the twins.
"I'll take this one too," he concluded, shrugging off the robe carefully and folding it neatly over his arms.
Satin smiled big and put her hand on her hip. "I knew you'd like that one, it goes so well with your complexion."
"We actually modeled that robe after your image," Chenille chimed in.
Creek raised his brows and placed the item with the rest of the clothes he was buying from them. "Did you? What do I owe the honor," he asked.
Satin waved her hand, "My sister and I knew that you were going to come around so we made it especially for your taste. You're our best customer after all, Creek."
"Yeah, and it's actually such a shame about your beautiful pod," Chenille pouted. "Can't believe that all of your stuff got burned with it."
"Ah… yes, it is a shame," Creek said, pained slightly. "But all is well, I'll have my home back soon enough."
The twins shuffled their feet and looked at one another before Chenille nudged her sister with her elbow. Satin rolled her eyes and put her hands behind her back, "So, uh, Creek, we were wondering about something."
Creek looked at them warily then nodded, "Yes?"
"How is it, living with him?"
Not expecting that question. "Pardon me?"
"You know, the unhappy troll. How can you live with Branch underground? You guys are like, totally polar opposites. What's it like?"
Creek frowned and folded his arms, looking away from them to gather his thoughts. "It is… normal, I suppose. It's not bad at all. We're getting along, for the most part."
The twin trolls looked at each other, taken aback, then moved to pick up Creek's clothing order to place it in a big bag at the center table.
"He's just so unhappy all the time," Satin said quietly. "I guess, maybe sometimes I worry?"
"I'd be careful. Better hope that stuff doesn't rub off on you, Creek," Chenille snickered. "I don't think Troll Village can handle two grey trolls, they don't even like one."
Creek snapped a glare at the coral blue troll, making her jolt slightly. "I think I will be perfectly fine," he grated. "I've got to head out now. Thank you for your help, loves." Creek picked up his bag and gave them a short wave, leaving the fashion twins' pod with a sour taste in his mouth.
"Did I say something wrong?" Chenille asked, confused.
"Ehh, probably," Satin shrugged.
Creek reminded himself that their thinking wasn't out of the ordinary. Just a week ago, Creek thought the same thing. No one in the village liked Branch's skin color, but it's not like his unhappiness was a contagious disease. That's what irritated Creek enough to break his usual, calm demeanor. He regretted letting that side of him out of the cage, especially around Satin and Chenille, and practically anyone else in the Snack Pack. If Creek acted as anything but a pure, spiritual guru then he was sure there would be wild concerns. He was also irritated at himself because more often than not, he was quick to lose all the peaceful vibes he sought to keep.
Whipping out his long, teal hair, Creek stepped along the wooden path inside the confines of Troll Tree and pulled himself up into the leaves above. His next destination was a small tea shop pod just on the other side of the foliage. He landed gracefully outside the entrance and adjusted his bag under his arm, doing a dusty pat-down before entering the pod. A tiny bell on the door jingled, announcing his arrival. In the far corner of the shop sitting at a two chair table was Poppy, sipping on a cup of what looked like hot chocolate. She looked up at the door and smiled, giving him a wave. He smiled back and made for the table, plopping down into the chair opposite of her.
"Hiya, Creek," she smiled warmly again. "How's it going? This is so good, do you want to try some?" She offered her cup to him and he politely declined.
"No thank you, Poppy dear. I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long," Creek said, setting his bag down on the ground beside his leg.
"Nah, not too long. I ordered your usual favorite, it should be ready soon." Poppy set her cup down on its saucer and reached into her fluffy, pink hair. "I summoned you over because I have a favor to ask." She pulled out a dark colored, leather journal with a steel lock planted over the front cover and offered it to him. Creek took the book and tilted his head, inspecting the weathered engravings and crumpled page edges.
"… This is –," he said, looking up at her.
"It's Branch's diary," she said. "Cloud Guy gave it to me."
Creek put the book down on the table immediately as if it were made of fiery coals, staring at it. "Does Branch know that this is here?"
Poppy spluttered and laughed, "Of course not, he'd lose his mind if he knew I had it! He knows that Cloud Guy stole it, so I'm sure the guy is scheming right now to get his journal back. We should prevent something drastic from happening, though. Branch can be a little harsh. Since you're living with him for awhile, I just wanted you to take it back to him before Branch makes Cloud Guy dissipate permanently."
"That'll be easy enough, I suppose." Creek recollected the scene of Branch and the annoying cloud earlier that morning. 'So this is what that was about,' he thought. It didn't quite help his opinion on the white puff.
"There's something else, too," Poppy said in a more hushed tone, "I have reasons to believe that..." she stopped, biting her lip and looking around the shop to make sure that her words were private. "I believe that Branch is somehow, er..." her cheeks colored slightly, "imprinted... by you."
Creek sat back in his chair and furrowed his brow, "Imprinted? I haven't hurt him at all," he said defensively.
"No, not like that." Poppy blushed more and fanned herself, then picked up her hot chocolate to take a quick drink before continuing. "I read some of his journal... I couldn't help it. I would do anything for Branch to make him happy in the end, even if it meant snooping through something that wasn't meant for me." She pouted and looked at the journal, feeling guilty about it. "He wrote things about you in it. He's... emotionally conflicted, simply put. There's also this strong smell that he only gets when he's around you. Not like body odor, but something more special. The way he describes it… it's beautiful. It makes me think that you could be his soul mate." Poppy dipped her gaze back into her cup and her finger tips fidgeted.
"That's impossible," Creek refused, frowning. "That's the most absurd thing I've ever heard you say, Poppy. I don't smell anything from him, he is not my mate. Not in a million years. I don't have a soul mate. I've never met them and I'm assuming they were taken on a Trollstice long ago."
"I figured something like that," Poppy nodded. "You don't act like you've found your true mate, but I think it's because Branch is unhappy. He isn't emitting a scent for you because he physically can't... given his circumstances. Branch has shut himself down as a troll in more ways than one."
Creek pressed his hand to his forehead, unable to accept what the princess was telling him. He knew of soul mates, every troll did. It was the most sought-after moment a troll could have when two soul mates came together. Once upon a time, Creek had dreams about his potential lover and how compatible they'd be. Their every day lives would be filled with romance and their beautiful auras would mingle together in perfect harmony, bringing the ultimate feeling of happiness. Every troll couple would envy them. Years flew by, Creek grew up, and he never found his mate. He's met every Troll in the village only find the other half of his soul just didn't exist. It was a painful ache to bear in his heart, but through meditation and calming practices he was able to get over it and move forward. His love life was nonexistent, so he focused his love on destiny, nature, and the energy flow of the universe.
Cutting through the building tension, one of the waitresses came to their table and placed a steaming chai tea latte in front of Creek. The small green troll with vibrant orange hair smiled cutely at him. Creek sighed and thanked them while keeping his eyes averted, not wanting to partake in small talk. The waitress pouted and scurried away back behind the counter, letting him sip the creamy tea and bask in the delicious spices. It helped him calm immediately.
"This is all just an assumption based on what I've seen, Creek," Poppy said, trying to help him with the idea. "I could be totally wrong, too. I just wanted to let you know, in case something happens."
"I am one hundred percent certain that Branch is nothing more to me than anyone else in this village. He's a regular troll, nothing special. What could possibly happen, princess," Creek said, his tongue becoming stiff while he focused on his latte. "The fact that you would think someone like me would bed a troll like him is appalling, in itself." Creek's heart clenched at the words, his criticism unwelcome even in his own mouth.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Poppy shook her head. "Just be careful, and be careful with Branch. You can't deny he's different, Creek. He's anything but a regular troll. I don't want either one of my best friends to get hurt," Poppy concluded, picking up the journal and reaching over the edge of the table to slip it into Creek's clothing bag. "Please just take this back to him, will ya? He'll probably be more freaked if I did it. It's so hard to lie to his face, he sees right through me."
Creek nodded with his lips on his cup, letting the liquid burn his tongue in an effort to quell the uncomfortable squirming inside him.
Poppy stood from the table and patted Creek on the shoulder, "Okay then, I'll see you later. I have royal business to attend to, as always! Oh, and the Fuzzlings are almost finished drawing out the blueprints for all the new pods. They'll probably want to go over it with you, so make sure to talk to them before they start building."
"See you, Poppy," Creek said, watching the pink troll leave the shop. Now it was just him, alone with his tea and his mind.
- - - - - -
Dusk fell upon the Troll Village and everyone was turning in for the night. Creek thought about putting off going back to Branch's bunker but decided that it would be pointless to avoid the grey troll. There was no reason for him to be so concerned about what Poppy said. Being stubborn never bore any fruit, though it was incredibly hard to shake such a bad habit. He made it down the elevator shaft while holding the multiple bags of his market haul and stepped gingerly to his room, pushing through the door and dropping the purchases on his bed with a grunt. His savings were practically run dry since he'd replaced most of his important items. Digging through the bags, Creek pulled an outfit and finally ditched his old khaki trousers in the trash. He slipped on a loose, long sleeve white shirt and simple black slacks. It gave off a modern, Victorian style that he was quite fond of.
"Finally," he breathed, stretching in the new clothes. Giving his hair a quick brush with a comb from his new bath set, Creek opened his door and peeked his head out, on the lookout for a short, black-haired troll. Creek heard some thumping around when he came into the bunker, so he knew Branch was somewhere inside… Now came the hard part; returning the journal without getting caught in the angry crossfire that was meant for Cloud Guy.
Creek had no idea where to start searching. Branch's bunker seemed like a maze outside the main chamber. He felt somewhat nervous, tiptoeing around opening doors and looking around corners. This place never ceased to amaze him when catching quick glimpses of the stockpile of supplies and furnishings of each room. They were all different, but they made sense. If anything irreversibly tragic were to happen, Branch being prepared would be an understatement.
Ears strained for any echo of sound to help him in his search, Creek made his way down one particularly warm tunnel that felt different from the rest. Aesthetically, it was the same as the rest of the bunker but the energy felt different, making the skin on his arms tingle. The wooden door at the end was open ajar and light spilled from the crack.
"Branch?" Creek called out, walking to the door and opening it the rest of the way. His eyes widened when he saw the many rows of shelves packed tightly with all different colored books, filling in every crevice of the room. It was a small library, lit by bright yellow luminescent crystals that mimic candlelight. The sharp glowing stones were wedged into the ceiling and into the bookshelves, creating an atmosphere that was breathtaking. Smack dab in the center of the room looked to be a large nest of pillows and thick blankets that was twice the size of his own bed. Branch probably spent many comfortable nights nestled in, reading his books when he wasn't working.
"What are you doing in here?" Branch asked sharply.
Creek blinked, seeing now that Branch was on one side of the room holding a stack of novels in his arms. He stepped into the library, gripping Branch's journal tightly in his hand. "I was looking for you," the purple troll said.
"You could have waited," Branch grumbled bitterly. "I asked you to keep to your own room but here you are, snooping around unsupervised. Figures as much." The troll set his books down at the small desk in the corner of the room and strode over to Creek. "What do you want?" Creek rolled his eyes at Branch's hostility, holding out the heavy leather journal to him. Branch looked at it then gasped, snatching it swiftly from Creek's hand, "My private journal! Why do you have it?!" He turned his back to him and inspected the book, trying to discern if it had been broken into or tampered with.
"Po – … er, I found it. It dropped out of the sky. A gift from destiny, you could say," Creek lied. He grimaced at his own incompetence, almost saying Poppy's name. Poppy was an awful liar, but he was one as well. "I remembered that it was yours because I saw it while we were in the forest, you had it then. I'm assuming you'd want it back?"
Branch pet the cover of his journal lightly and hugged it to his chest, breathing in relief. "Yeah. I was really starting to worry there," he laughed weakly. "It looks fine, everything is fine," he mumbled to himself, moving back to his desk and placing the journal in one of the drawers.
Creek took a moment to admire the library some more, walking to the main bookshelf and reading along the spines. Everything was alphabetical by title, of course. He was surprised, but also expected that kind of particular attention coming from Branch. There were so many subjects and topics, things he's never heard of… Lighting and Cooling, Little Women, The Lighting Thief, Lord of the Flies, Les Schtroumpfs… Creek stopped, his heart wedging up into his throat. The deep blue spine with silver linings was frayed gently at the edges from multiple readings. Creek pulled the book from the shelf and stared at it in disbelief. This used to be his book. He'd read this exact story a hundred times over when he was young… and then what did he do with it? Creek wracked his brain, mouth pressing thin. He remembered trying to give it to Branch, but it was rejected. But the book was here, in Branch's home, twenty years later. What were the actual odds of him coming here to find this?
Branch came back from his desk, rubbing his arm slightly, "Thanks, and I'm sorry, Creek" he said stiffly. "I didn't mean to say you were snooping, I know that was rude." Creek was quiet and the grey troll shuffled slightly. Branch noted Creek's change in demeanor when his apology was ignored, then glanced at the blue book in his hand. If Branch had color, all of it would have drained from his face in that moment. Suppressed memories came flooding back, suffocating his mind.
I know you're sad.
Reading this book always made me happy so I wanted you to read it too.
You love books.
You're my best friend… I'm your friend, right?
"You kept this?" Creek whispered, looking up at him. Branch sucked in a shaky breath, eyes darting from the book to Creek's stunned expression. His stomach twisted painfully and his palms began to sweat. Reaching out a shaking hand, Branch tried to take the book from Creek but this time, the purple troll held it back swiftly.
"That's not what you think it is!" Branch said in a frenzy, biting his lower lip and trying to go for it again. Creek switched it to his other hand and held the troll back.
"It's exactly what I know it is, Branch. Why did you keep this?! Do you not hate me??"
Branch made a loud, frustrated noise and stepped back, wringing his hands together. "I don't hate you, Creek! I've never hated you. You just… No, you're the one that hates me!"
"I don't hate you, Branch."
"You hate me because you can't accept who I am."
"How could I accept this state of you? This is not who you really are, regardless of how long you've been in this slump. You were not born grey!"
"Here we go again," Branch grit his teeth, his temper rising. "Look, I don't have an excuse fitting enough for you about the book. You threw it at me and I kept it. There's nothing else to it. Sorry if that fucking bothers you."
"Ugh.. Don't be sorry," Creek grimaced with a sigh. He dropped his arm and slipped the book back into its space on the shelf, letting his fingers linger on the spine for a moment. "I'm not upset that you kept this... I'm happy."
"You're – what?" Branch was confused now, the purple troll taking him for a loop.
"Well, it's not that important, but" Creek rubbed the worried lines from his face with both palms then folded his arms loosely. "I'm happy, Branch. I'm glad that you've been taking care of my favorite story this whole time." He didn't want to go too far into details because he wasn't sure of his own feelings on the matter, yet.
"Taking care of… I wouldn't go that far," Branch sighed. The grey troll pulled a random book off the shelf without looking then moved around the large mound of bedding on the floor, dropping into a pillow that was almost as big as him. "If you don't have anything else, you can leave now." Branch idly flipped through the book, his face devoid of expression.
"I did ask for you to keep your evening free," Creek said, taking the liberty to jump into the mountain of pillows with him.
Branch yelped in surprise, bouncing slightly from the impact, "What the hell? Get out of here!"
"My gift, Branch. I haven't given you my gift, I believe it's time to share it." Creek ignored his protests, feeling mischievous. He reached into his hair and pulled out a black velvet bag with a loose drawstring. He settled into a comfortable position then offered the bag to Branch, who looked at it cautiously.
"What is it?" he asked, unsure.
"Why don't you open it?" Creek said with a slight smile.
Branch rolled his eyes and accepted the bag, pulling the drawstring and carefully letting the contents out onto his lap. His gift was a pair of thick, clear glasses with long-stemmed handles, and a slender dark bottle filled with liquid. There was no label or discernible markings that told him what was inside it.
"This is... interesting," he said, quirking a brow at the items. "What is it?" he asked again, more sarcastically.
"It's wine, you uncultured barbarian." Creek reached over and took a glass and the bottle from him, unscrewing the lid. "I made it myself. Only few trolls in this village have access to pleasures like alcohol. I own a private stock with King Peppy for safe keeping. I'm assuming you've never had a drink like this, so I've mixed it with fresh pressed berry juice so that it goes down easier." Creek poured the liquid slowly until his glass was half full, then handed it to Branch so he could fill the second one. Setting the bottle aside, the purple troll tipped his cup up and nodded to Branch to try it.
Branch blushed slightly and held his glass by his fingertips, feeling as though he were holding something rare and expensive. He knew about alcohol, but he'd never tried any and he didn't know anyone that had. The aroma wafting from the deep red liquid smelled strongly of fermented raspberries. The grey troll watched Creek take his first swallow and he looked thoroughly happy with his drink. Swallowing slightly, Branch brought the cup to his lips and took a daring gulp.
He was hit with a flash a sweetness, then an unexpected fire flew down his throat. Spluttering, Branch made a wildly grotesque face with his tongue sticking out. "Oh God!"
"Good, isn't it?" Creek laughed at him from behind his glass.
"Yeah, if you're into drinking poison," Branch said, his mouth overrun with a dry, bitter aftertaste.
"It gets better the more you drink it. Wine is an acquired taste, my dear." Creek swirled the liquid in his hand gently and hummed, sinking back into the pillows before savoring the wine again.
Branch scowled, unwilling to be beaten by a mere beverage. If Creek could drink it, then so could he. Taking a breath in, the troll took another large dose and forced it down. This time, the fire wasn't as harsh and the sweetness of the berries lingered longer on his tongue. Poppy was the only one who ever gave him gifts. She never had any particular reason to give him presents but he always seemed to end up with chests full of useless scrapbooks, cards, and knickknacks that shed endless amounts of glitter all over his bunker. Creek's present was unique, but it wasn't a bad thing. After a few minutes of sipping, his body started to feel warm and lax. He picked up his book and sifted through the pages idly, pondering if he had the patience to read while Creek was with him. The purple troll was quiet, already finished with his first glass and pouring a second. He seemed content enough to lounge in Branch's reading nest and do absolutely nothing.
Branch wasn't sure how much time had passed or how much he'd drank, but he was starting to feel incredibly drowsy now. His book wasn't interesting at all. He sank into his body pillow and stretched his arms and back, feeling hot but in a pleasing way. His face burned and he was light-headed. He thought about all the things that had happened up to this point and how unreal every event had been. His life was being a lot more dramatic than he wanted, but for moments like this he could probably handle a few hectic days. For the first time in a long time, Branch was feeling good. Dazed and satiated, Branch drifted over his thoughts and breathed slowly.
Creek's mouth twitched, his eyes closed as he lay in the pillows. He heard the shift in the cushion as the grey troll became more comfortable. It gave him a wonderful sense of accomplishment, knowing that his wine was melting away trivial worries in the troll. There was no doubt that they were feeling the same slow burn. Slowly, his chest started to swell with a feeling he didn't recognize, wrapping around his heart and pressing him forward. He was being pushed, over and over, in a direction that didn't make sense. Creek's eyelashes fluttered and his lips parted slightly.
"You're folded into me..."
A quiet melody spilled from Creek's tongue. He couldn't have stopped it and he didn't want to. His vocal cords vibrated pleasantly with the thrum of his heart. He was buzzing like a firefly, encased in a simple, comfortable bliss that wasn't easily come by. Warmth spread over every inch of Creek's body and he sunk deeper into the pillows. He let his head fall farther back, sighing.
"Early in the morning when it's too cold... You're careless on your feet," he sang softly to himself, closed to the world. "Swaying in the hallway like a lost soul."
Branch blinked through his fuzzy eyes. He sat up gingerly and looked over at the purple troll by his side, his pointed ears twitching to Creek's random musical venture. Why was he singing all of a sudden? It sounded so… smooth, and peaceful. Branch was usually quick to shut down any troll that tried to sing around him so everyone assumed that he hated music, but that wasn't the case. He hated obnoxious, loud, erratic music that gave him headaches. But Creek… he got his attention. It was so rare to hear a sound that he enjoyed coming from someone else. He was weak to soft, poetic sounds and a his body shivered at the notes.
"Lasting the fall, onto the spring… Nothing at all, still everything."
Creek's singing wasn't new to Branch, he'd always catch snippets of it. Creek had an accent that was easily noticed above other trolls when they sang in the village, but this was the first time that it really penetrated his stubborn ears. The sound snaked through his head and caressed his chest like a heavy wave. His fingers clenched into the thick blankets he sat upon. Unconsciously swaying in time with the slow words, Branch moved his hand to his brow, feeling significantly lighter than normal. He wasn't sure if it was intoxication or if Creek's singing was physically affecting on his body. It was absolutely lovely. It was wonderfully weightless to listen to him. There was an incredible awareness wrapping him up in a hot blanket of new desires, helping bleed out the cold that he harbored at his core.
"Love, stay patient… Baby, everything takes time.
The ending will be worth the waiting.
Soon it will be crystalline."
Branch found himself moving closer to Creek, closer to the song, twisting towards the troll and leaning forward. His eyes were hazy while he dragged them over Creek's face. He admired the long lashes resting on silver freckled cheeks. He watched Creek's lips as he sang and felt the octaves crawl over his dark skin. There was something special woven into his voice that Branch couldn't ignore. It made him tingle, pulling him inward. His thoughts were clouded by wine, unable to comprehend exactly what he wanted or what he was doing.
"Went from black and white, snapping into color like a drug dream."
The corner of Creek's mouth turned up into a small smile, totally unaware of how Branch was closing in on him, shifting through the mounds of blanket and pillows undetected. Branch's eyes flickered at the smile. Never in this world would he tell the purple troll, but he found that smile to be brilliantly handsome. Creek was utterly attractive and Branch always had to be on guard. He had perfect skin painted with the most beautiful, soft lilac color. Any troll would kill to have a hue such as his. It was a bright glow of color that you could never get tired of looking at. And his hair… Branch moved his attention up to the mass of vibrant teal strands laying over the back pillows.
"The blinking of your eyes,
Stirred up something in me that you can't see."
The familiar scent hit Branch then, strong and unyielding. Sweet mint leaves caressed his nose, followed by an earthy, herb-like after effect. His body crippled inwardly, losing sight of the single tendril that bound him to his strength. Creek's hair was the merciless culprit emitting this incredible scent that tortured him in the worst ways. His heart hammered in his chest, mouth agape, as soft pants started to escape his throat. It took no time for the rest of his coherent thought to melt away. Branch lost his mind completely. Without another second thought, Branch closed his eyes and buried his flushed face straight into Creek's full bodied mane, sucking in a sharp breath through his nose. He took in the sweet smell with everything he had and it traveled through him like an icy breeze. His body shivered again in excitement and he moaned softly, totally enveloped. Nothing else smelled as perfect as this.
The library suddenly became very quiet, right before he felt a warm hand reach up and touch him on the shoulder. "Branch…?" Creek was looking up at the grey troll, bewildered, his cheeks full of color.
Branch bolted upright out of Creek's hair, blown with panic when he realized what he was doing. "O-Oh... God," he stuttered. He just smashed his face into Creek's hair! Troll hair was magical and sacred to the individual. It was an extremely intimate gesture to touch another troll's hair, even more taboo to touch without asking. He had no words, no excuse, for the unnatural impulse that caused him to cross that line. He started to back away from the purple troll, stumbling slightly. "The smell… I-I… I couldn't –."
"Wait," Creek said quickly, sitting up and taking Branch's wrist before he bolted away. "Please wait! It's okay, Branch."
"S'not okh… not okay," Branch blushed horribly when his tongue tripped over itself, covering his face with his free hand. "I'm so sorry, Creek. I d-don't... don't know why," his lower lip trembled dangerously and Branch bit into it harshly. He was so embarrassed, overwhelmed, and muddled. He felt weakened and exposed. Creek could do or say anything and Branch would probably shatter like glass. It was frightening feeling for the purple troll to have that kind of power over him. Pressure built behind his eyes as he felt like crying in frustration, unsure of himself.
Feeling somewhat sluggish, Creek still managed to pull him back in. In a single fluid motion, Branch was pressed up against Creek's chest and the purple troll wrapped his arms around him tightly, one at his waist and the other around his back. His hand guiding the back of Branch's head, allowing his cheek rest at the crevice of his shoulder.
"Shh… Shh.. It really is alright, I promise," Creek hushed him, doing his best to keep from quivering himself. "Everything is fine, love." Branch choked slightly on an oncoming sob, but he merely leaned into the hug and fought back the tears stubbornly. He gripped Creek's sleeves and cursed at himself when the silk fabric smoothed along his hot cheek, his heart was fluttering uncontrollably.
The long-sought connection that Creek craved was right there. Right there! It was prime, ready to be grabbed and tangled up in his hand. He wasn't going to let it go and he wouldn't let Branch run away. Creek certainly knew that the berry wine would help Branch relax, but he wasn't prepared for the fortune of Branch's unruly actions.
Branch had breathed in his preciously kept hair like it was source of life. He'd never experienced someone scenting him in such a way. Buzzed with alcohol, the grey troll was raw and rampant in his emotions. Poppy had told Creek about this at the tea shop, but he didn't actually believe that Branch could smell something so strong emanating from him. He thought it may have been a fluke, or some other explanation entirely. It couldn't be the scent of a soul mate, it couldn't be. It was impossible, right?
Their childhood used to be intimate before Branch lost is colors, having fun together without a care in the world. They were inseparable best friends and hugged closely like how they were doing now, played with each other's hair, and talked about everything from rainbows to coloring books. His old feelings were surging inside him, strong and willing. His aura flickered with a needy want. He wanted to keep Branch to himself and be everything that he needed, in every sense of the word. He wanted to make Branch happy again. He wanted Branch's colors to finally return. If that meant touching and smelling his hair, then by Holy Mother, he was going to let him do it again. He didn't believe they were mates, but he could be more than an estranged acquaintance. It was time to stop playing the mindless games where they pretended to hate one another.
Feathered breaths from the dark troll tickled the edge of Creek's ear. Branch was clinging to his biceps, no longer trying to push away. Creek moved his hand from the back of his head and let it travel slowly down his back, trying to press the fear out of Branch's shaking aura. Curiosity picking at him, he turned his face towards the black stalks of hair by his cheek and inhaled slowly, trying to derive something more than any ordinary essence. Branch had a weak smell of fresh shampoo, but there was nothing else remotely close to what could be considered the scent of his soul. Creek tightened his jaw when he felt slightly disappointed. It's almost like he was hoping for more.
After transiently rubbing his back up and down, Branch seemed to relax. One more moment passed before Creek found his courage to take the first step forward. "Hey, Branch," he said tenderly, keeping his hug sturdy with a small squeeze. Branch's ears perked up and he made a small noise, listening with his eyes closed. "How about it, will you be my friend again? I want to... start over." Looking to the other side of the nest of pillows, Creek dreaded rejection. He eyed the bookshelf, searching for the treasured book that he'd given Branch when they were little, willing it to help him. 'Mother Destiny, please don't let me down tonight,' he thought desperately to himself.
Branch was quiet at first, unreadable. His grip on Creek's arms had loosened and he did a small sniff, clearing up his nose. He was obviously thinking about the prospect of letting Creek back into his life. Their past wasn't the prettiest and it would take time to forgive and forget the jagged path they walked to get to this point. There never would be an appropriate time to ask for his friendship like this. The wait almost killed him, but then grey troll nodded and let out the heavy sigh he'd been holding. "Yeah, I'd like that."
Creek cracked the biggest smile he's had in days. He made a low a chuckle and unwrapped Branch, putting his hands on his shoulders to get a look at him. His face was still slightly red, either from the alcohol or embarrassment. Branch kept his eyes away to the side, but Creek could see that they were slightly pink and puffy from old tears. "Don't let it go to your head," he said with a frown, but his voice betrayed him. There was no hint of bitterness to be found.
"Not at all," Creek replied, still smiling. "Being the first time you've had a solid drink, I think we should get to sleep now, there's been enough excitement for one day. You will feel better in the morning." Creek got up first and steadied his stance among the pillows, taking Branch's elbow and helping him to his wobbly feet. If he ever let Branch drink his berry wine again he'd have to watch his consumption next time. It was amazing how a little amount could affect him so much. Leading the grey troll slowly with a strong hand, they left the warm cocoon of the library and made it to Branch's bedroom without any problems. Branch didn't say anything and didn't fight him while he was being carted around. His aura felt neutral and uncertain, but Creek accepted it for what it was. He felt so sincerely blessed and anything more would be a rarity.
Branch took the door handle and paused before going inside his darkened room. "Creek..." he said quietly, "Thanks for the gift... it was nice, I really liked it. Goodnight." Then he went inside, the door clicking gently shut behind him.
Creek beamed to himself and clenched his fist to his chest, his energy rebounding in a massive surge. He practically trotted back through the bunker and started straightening up the place, beginning with the little library. He capped the rest of his wine mix and fluffed out the nest of pillows and folded the blankets. Then he went to the kitchen and made sure it was tidy, free from clutter or dishes. Roaming from room to room, humming a harmonious tune, Creek did his best to expend his happy energy by cleaning and straightening what he could. Branch's bunker was already tidy but Creek wanted to make sure that he didn't wake up to any extra chores when it was entirely possible that he might have a headache later. The coming days could be awkward ones, or they could be amazing ones. That all depended on Branch. There was so much more that Creek wanted to learn and he wasn't going to mess up the only chance that the grey troll had given him.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Lawlly
Lawlly Creek's song - "Crystalline" by JOME
https://youtu.be/irC5X8RX3-0
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone