Couldn't Utter My Love When It Counted

She watched him approach, eyes trailing over the shirt, the corner of her mouth twitching as she noted the miss button at the bottom. Meg’s heart ached, a heaviness had replaced the usual lightness in her steps as she walked into the garden, the only noise filling the air being the birds and the quiet, measured breaths between them.

I brought my plant. Hand taught around the strap pulled a little to jostle her satchel in a gentle sway. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to sit or stand, so shuffled between her feet awkwardly. I was the one who planted it, gave you it to look after, brighten up your place. It’s fine.

I got your notes. Wrote my own. She pulled the notes of parchment, offering them for him to take and read. Meg offered a slight shrug, Might seem mean, but I’m… she let out a long sigh, taking a seat after he took them, palm rubbing over where her heart beat. It hurts. A lot.

Scribbled in her more fluid pencilship, she’d replied with her own answer, question and truth.
Go get the plant you kidnapped. - It’s not kidnapping if it's technically mine.
Bring the plant home? - Where is home? You left me. Not once, not twice.
I should’ve told you a lot of things. Like my name, for starters. Athos. - You should have. But I already knew that. Bertie let it slip one night, told me you didn’t like it so I never used it. I’ve never held anything else from you. Not ever. And I’d never share your secrets to anyone, never, but you still kept them.

@Nairn