Watering Thoughts

There was something all too familiar within the Heavenly Embassy’s greenhouses, it had been easy to ignore when Lapis had planted the ambrosia seeds with Primrose, but now that he was to water them alone, he felt like the glass walls were closing in on him.

There was something sticking to his chest, hidden and crumpled under his band t-shirt, and if he didn’t have the watering can in his hands, he might have shaken apart.

He was sure Primrose would have tried to dismiss his concerns, chalk them up to spending too much time with succubuns, but Lapis knew they weren’t the reason he felt like this. He didn’t fit in with other cherubuns anymore, or at least not the ones that were too terrified to step foot outside of the embassy.

“What am I doing?” Lapis muttered to himself, approaching the fountain in the middle of the gardens. He slowly filled his watering can, frowning as the water poured in clear and untouched. “But being pure isn’t very fun, is it?”

He rolled his head back, looking up at the ceiling, beyond the glass to the cavernous roof above. Would it always feel like this? The desire to be different, but realizing that meant you’d be different to everything you knew?

Primrose and Dove had seen his new sides with varying reactions, and while Lapis didn’t plan to change himself, it was something that stuck with him. He wasn’t who he used to be, but he thought some parts of him remained the same. He was still kind, he still cared how he made others feel, and while, yes, the band was wild and rude and all those things he was told to stay away from, they cared too.

“But I have to stop caring about that,” Lapis mumbled as he took a deep breath and held his watering can high. He made his way over to the flowerbeds slowly, hooves stomping over the grass. It was silly to worry about these things, he could hear Damien in his head, telling him he needed to stop giving a damn about what people think about him. The succubun’s last advice was telling him to tell judgemental people to fuck off.

Although the cherubun wouldn’t dare say that out loud around anyone else, cursing still made him all flustered. He only did it when he was alone and listening to the band’s music: maybe because Minerva always sounded so cool when she growled out lyrics and he wanted to be like her. She was kind of his inspiration to try new things, the whole band was.

Lapis started to hum to himself as he started to water the plants, he was surprised to see the sprouts were already growing fast. He imagined it was some kind of secret from Primrose, that cherubun started to know everything about plants or maybe just the plants he got from the meadow’s seeds? He was too scared to ask, as there was nothing worse than getting one of Primrose’s long-winded talks.

He shuddered, trying to focus on not drowning any of the plants. “I feel bad for you guys, he seems like the type to talk to plants.” He snickered to himself, his tail wagging slightly, “Maybe you’d like something different… But I’d probably get in trouble if I tried to show you rock music.”

Lapis was pretty sure he’d get kicked out and told not to return if he messed up the ambrosia plants, they only had so many, and he was sure they were like Primrose’s babies in a way. He should really tell Dove that, he was sure they’d laugh. Maybe they’d even spill a story or two about something Primrose has done.
He did like Primrose, kind of, but there had to be something about him, something that wasn’t perfect. Melangel wasn’t here and that meant no one really had to listen to their nonsense on virtues.

He froze when he heard a creak, staring at the doors to the greenhouse, but sighing in relief. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to think about his feelings? He needed to finish watering the plants and he needed to make sure the band didn’t get into too much trouble without him there. Being the PR of succubuns was no joke.
Lapis started to hurry through watering the rest of the flowerbeds, his hooves stained with mud. He really did hope he got some of the newest ambrosia batch when all of these plants were harvested and grinded down. The band taught him he needed to stop doing what others want for free, just like how he got paid to be their PR, because he could be taken advantage of.

He should really tell Primrose-

“Lapis are you done watering the plants?!” Primrose’s voice called through the now opened garden door.
Lapis squeaked, “Yes Primrose! I’ll be right there!”