[Gift] [Gift][Prompt] Made With Love

O’Feirmeoir is so excited she is practically vibrating with it. Scratch that, she is physically vibrating. Currently, she is in her little kitchen, dirty pots and bowls piled in the sink. Her ears twitch rhythmically, the vines and leaves rustling along with the tune she hums as she puts together a heart shaped box of chocolates on her kitchen table. She can’t help the twitch of her feet as well, and she bounces in place on her hooves.

Despite all her movement, O’Feir places each chocolate piece in its little paper cup without incident. She made them herself, with her own two hooves, from what was grown in her own fields. He had given her flowers. Tasty flowers. True, he bolted after leaving them at her door and didn’t leave a name with them, but that’s alright because she saw him leaving! Beo could be silly like that.

The chocolate treats, some made with the very flowers gifted, are a perfect gift to give in return. And maybe, if she plays her cards right, he’ll even invite her to stay and share them. It’s only fair that she get to taste the fruits of her labor.

O’Feirmeoir has to take a moment to cover her face and suppress a squeal, ears fluttering. With a shake of her head, she pats her flushed cheeks. She doesn’t have time for that. There’s a bun waiting for her, though he doesn’t know it yet.

Drawn by the commotion, one of her many imps comes to investigate. O’Feir has to shoo a curious green erose from floating too close to the food.

“Not now, Dewy. That’s not for you,” she admonishes the erose. The imp rustles its petals at her before settling into the fur of her left ear like a hair clip with opinions. Dewy had been fussy since the flowers arrived. O’Feir suspects it is jealousy, but with imps you can never too be sure. Still, she lets Dewy curl into her fur to hangout and give them some attention.

The chocolates, nestled in their little paper cups, are covered snugly with a lid. O’Feirmeoir’s work is flawless, and she nods decisively and proudly at the finished product. It is time to go hunting for the giftee.

Beo as a rule is often elusive, preferring solitude and quiet away from the general hustle and bustle of the city. It was how he ran into O’Feirmeoir. He had stumbled onto her farm one day while exploring and studying the flora in the caverns she lives in and she’s been latched onto him since.

“Now,” O’Feir wonders aloud, half to herself and half to Dewy still attached to her ear, “if I were a bun wantin’ to avoid other buns, where would I hole up?”

The first place she can think of is a little place nearby. It’s equidistant to both their homes, and a little out of the way so no bun would stumble on it without leaving the larger paths. The cave, more of a tunnel ending in a semi-spacious dead-end, has enough light from the bio-luminescent crystals lining the wall to see by and smooth, level floor to sit. Perfect for Beo to do his work.

Decision made, O’Feir heads in that direction. Before too long, she comes to the bend ahead of the dead-end. There’s a soft light that makes her smile, and sure enough when she rounds the corner there’s Beo. His back turned and hunched over music sheets. He’s so absorbed in marking he doesn’t hear her come up behind him, and she’s determined to get him out of whatever funk he’s in.

“There you are!”

Beo’s work is soundly interrupted when O’Feir smacks the box over his head. Ink splatters across his paper and a couple pieces of chocolate bounce to the ground. His jar of glowing crystals giving him light to work by is nearly upended.

“Ack! O’Feir!” Beo cries and clutches his head, more surprised than hurt.

“Found you! Here! I made these for you,” O’Feir says, shoving the now rumpled box toward Beo who barely manages to catch it.

Seeing the pieces of candy hit the ground, Dewy pounces on them and absorbs one before O’Feir can grab them herself.

“Hey! Those aren’t yours!” exclaims O’Feir, and Dewy retreats back into her fur to pout.

Beo takes a second to register what was said to him.

“These...are for me?”

O’Feir pops the piece of chocolate she brushed dirt off of into her mouth and nods, smiling brightly, then says around the candy, “Uh-huh!”

She plops down beside him.

“Go on. Try one!”

With a little hesitation born of a natural skittishness, Beo picks up a chocolate and eats it. It’s...not bad actually. There’s a slight heat reminding him of pepper that the sweet chocolate tempers and it’s earthy for sure, but in a good way.

“It’s,” he pauses to swallow, “It’s good. I like it.”

O’Feir wiggles in delighted pride.

“Good! I’m glad you like them. I liked your flowers.”

If Beo didn’t have a face covered in fur at the moment, he would blush.

“O-oh! You’re...welcome. I’m glad, too.”

O’Feir’s smile hasn’t faltered or dimmed. She eats another dusty candy, watching Beo expectantly. Beo shyly looks from the box in his lap, to O’Feir and the pouting Dewy, back to the box feeling like there’s something he should say or do.

“Um…,” he starts, O’Feir leaning towards him, “Would you...like to stay? A-and talk? Or just sit! If you’d like.”

“Yes!” O’Feir exclaims and scoots closer to him, stealing a chocolate from the box. Beo doesn’t mind. He’s happy to share if it makes her happy.

They settle down into slightly charged silence while Beo sets the box of cholates aside and tries to salvage the mess on his papers. Truthfully, he hadn’t gotten much done, so he couldn’t say it was ruined. He reaches for another piece of candy and hums as it melts on his tongue. It really is good, if a bit different.

“So,” says O’Feir by his side, unable to stay quiet any longer, “How do you feel about children?”

Beo chokes.