Hello everybody! It's been awhile since I have published and updated this book, huh-

Well! I am back at it again and I have brought you a bittersweet wholesome-angst combination with a new oc that I am absolutely IN LOVE WITH and I cannot wait to explore their character in upcoming art and oneshots, hehe!

If you want to see art of these two characters, I recommend checking out my art book since I will be dumping their looks in that book... without further ado, I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as I had fun writing it .D

I am also dedicating this chapter to my bestie Jackie since they inspired me to write this oneshot and absolutely adore this character as much as I do so I hope I do you proud gurlie! uwu <3

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A small orange hue softly brightened up the floral shop that had closed the day prior. The droopy petals began to awake from their slumber as their green stems turned towards the flame that entered the building. His flames cracked as he moved throughout the building, snapping shut the umbrella covered in small droplets of rain, he placed it in a small bucket by the glass door as his mind went towards his job.

As a florist, he often didn't get a lot of customers coming in around the early hours of the morning. Many liked to sleep in their comfy beds and homes while he... he only wished to feel the luxuries of the common goods. The only clothes he couldn't burn were a set of fanciful clothes he bought from a clothes dealer — who he never saw again. He was glad he bought two pairs of the same outfit so he wasn't roaming around "naked" and embarrassed by his lack of clothes.

He grabbed for fire resistant gloves, controlling the wild flame that was his hand that became contained in the structure of the gloves. He grabbed for the dull green watering can and began to feed the vibrant flowers. He was so thankful for the merchant who sold him fire resistant gear and wished to buy more to feel more alive. There were so many things he hadn't experienced that he wished to instead of being looked at like a force of nature that could burn down villages, forests and anything that stood in his way.

... But he didn't WANT that. He wanted to feel the warmth of another's touch against his surface but he would never experience that; he wanted to feel the fragile petals between the cracks of his fingers instead of through gloves he had to wear. He took a rose, lightly tracing the petals betwixt the gaps between the gloved fingers and raised the rose to his face. The flower grew more red and red until a spark enlightened the rose's precious bud, turning the once mystical flower into a bunch of ashes.

A wave of sadness gushed over his vibrant flames, leaving green muddied between the tips of his flame. Would there ever be an experience where he would not burn something to embers? Ever since he was little, his foster parents were afraid of the damage and power he possessed - abandoning the little flame in the darkness of the woods on the darkest evening of the year where wolves ran rampant. To everyone's dismay, the wolves never came for him in hunger but for a source of light. Warmth. Why couldn't another feel the exact same way the wolves had felt many moons ago?

This question often perplexed and bothered him every day when he opened the store because the answer to it seemed simple enough that he didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry — nobody knew how to read him. As often as he tried to present the warmth he wanted reciprocated... how could one give back to an object that had already so much warmth? How does one give warmth to something that it cannot fathom to touch?

It was often tiring on the flame-man to water the flowers away, watching customers walk in and out without the exchange of any words. Perhaps he would try reaching out but every time he swore that ice nipped away at his courage to start a conversation and once again, would settle for being in the cold. But maybe... just maybe something would change. He'd tell himself and yet, the days always seemed the exact same.

As the sky's pinks laced in with warm oranges began to cave away to an azure sky with barely any specks of cotton white clouds, the flame was at it again, watering away the plants that drank every bit of water they could get. He imagined they were thanking him with compliments and kind words. He was glad that his once small hobby of growing flowers turned into his source of income, despite not needing money to survive. He didn't need to collect food or water, all he needed was oxygen to survive (which was free).

He remembered being a small flame once, traveling the small forest, leaving ashy grass in his wake. He didn't mean to leave a trail of smoke after him and hid his feelings of hurt when strange glances were thrown his way.

Sometimes I wish I was something I wasn't, is that such a strange thought? He remembered whispering to the wind that took his sparks and left destruction in its path on a poor, helpless forest. Green sparks flickered through his flames as he weaved his way through petunias and orchids - he didn't mean to be a bringer of chaos. He wished for silky smooth hair that bounced whenever he walked and skin so soft that would be covered in scratches and scars from thorns and branches.

Ding. The bell attached to the front door sounded out as a breathy, unfamiliar voice filled the air, cutting through his daydream: "Can somebody help me...?" Their voice was silvery and smooth, despite the frantic energy that radiated outwards. The flame moved between the flowers, seeing a young individual with air as white as the clouds above and mismatched pastel eye colors that were holding back tears. He didn't move from the safety of the flowers and examined the boy. He wore high-end fashion that if anything happened to him, whoever caused his demise would be executed on the spot.

"You're the only place open this early... please help me..." hearing the individual's plea, he moved behind the counter, unsure why the individual seemed nervous about ordering flowers but yet again, he didn't know who this stranger was. A six-pointed star was laced within their hair as their feet barely touched the ground. The flame didn't often speak to their guests - choosing to be mute over engaging in awkward dialogue that they didn't have time to prepare and obsess over the smallest of intricacies.

"Have you seen my cousin...? He looks like me but instead of purple and black... it's red and black..."

Say something. The individual, whose species was unfamiliar to him, began to wipe at their eyes as the flame finally gained the courage to speak to the individual.

"It's okay if not... it's my first time coming around these parts and I just ... have no idea where I am going," a hoarse laugh left the stranger's mouth as their eyes examined the flame. Their eyes didn't stay in one spot, trying to read the flame before promptly giving up and turning their attention towards the flowers.

"You have such a beautiful array of objects. I've never seen them here, they must be an Earth thing... my first time visiting the floor. Have you seen my cousin?" He asked once again. "Any info helps..."

"I'm sorry..." the flame finally spoke, melting away at the ice that grew inside of flames. The voice startled the individual. Was it too harsh?

"I didn't expect such a soft voice to emerge from a creature of fire..." the individual spoke as they crept closer, curiosity glittered in their eyes. "I thought your kind was a myth! It's always cold up in the clouds despite the sun glowing above us... Dione must hate us," a small laugh danced in the air between them.

"I'm the last of my kind," the flame-man admitted. He never met another flame person before and had foggy memories of extinguished fires going on all around him. He didn't remember what his parents looked like, what their soft voices sounded like nor if they cared and cradled like. Throughout his life, he always knew one thing: the coldness of reality.

Silence developed around the two of them before the male gave his condolences in a soft, hushed voice - assumingly to not trigger the flame. Did the stranger think he would burn down everything around them if threatened? He didn't feel like putting his insecurities in the limelight.

"I was sent here by my people to return him so we can rule the skies together but without him... I cannot rule," the male revealed as he moved close to the counter and leaned towards the flame. This was the closest anyone has ever gotten to him without feeling threatened... he felt a ripple of fire move from his shoulders up to the wild flames that cracked and cindered. Luckily the ceiling was built high.

The flame listened intently. Our people? Why couldn't he rule by himself? The anxiety that nipped at his inner flame began to die away when the stranger moved towards a flower, admiring the beauty of the plant. The plant being a beautiful amarilys. "Do you like flowers?" He heard himself asking out.

"I've never seen anything this beautiful before! My people live in the sky and admittedly, this is my first time being on the ground and even then... I'm floating, not even touching the ground, hehe..."

"Well," the flame male began, his flames crackling softly. For some reason, he felt... warmer than he usually did. He had never felt this way before as he followed the shorter male's movements towards giant sunflowers he had grown himself as the stranger began to talk once more as the flame had lost his train of thought, focused on the male's gentle movements.

Silence developed between them as he felt himself pique up. "This is my livelihood. I also have a soft spot for flowers. They... resonate with me."

"That's what these are called, flowers? That's such a beautiful word for these beautiful buds of color... in the sky, we have crystals made out of raindrops that have a rainbow color but that's about as much color as we have up there, I must admit," the Nebule admitted as their mismatched pink and blue eyes rested upon his flame head. "You must be good at what you do."

"Well, I like to say that I am average..." he responded as the cloud male gave out a small huff.

"Humble smuble. Give yourself some credit! All these... flowers seem to be tilted in your direction. Must mean that they like you!"

A small wave of heat fancied the male as he swore he felt ice buzzing around in his stomach. The words fizzled out and died as panic swept over his body. Silence engulfed the two of them until a few seconds slowly drifted by when the stranger opened up their mouth and spoke once more.

"I really hope Maxen is okay... he left in the middle of the night a couple of days before our ceremony and I am just... worried sick. I abandoned my post to bring him back. Our family doesn't really... care but I like to think that they sent me to find him. My Mom wanted me to siege the throne and be a lonesome ruler but that isn't how it works. I don't want to rule and have all the responsibilities to myself. It'll stress me out."

The stranger sniffed the flower, their eyes closing softly as the flame imagined the smell drifting through their air ducts as a gentle sigh left the stranger's mouth before drawing back, the expression perplexed the flame. "My apologies! I never introduced myself to you and vice versa! My name is Capucine. I am in line for the Nebule crown and I have come searching for my cousin, as I have explained thousands of times."

The flame listened intently until silence developed between the two of them. The flame never thought of a name before as nobody had ever asked if a creature like himself had one. It took a minute of thinking before he spoke. "Nobody has ever asked me a name... I don't have one picked out."

"You look like a Fuego, Lumbre or an Incendio to me," Capucine noted as the flame thought over the names for a quick second before the crackling of the tips of his head grew loud, causing poor Capucine to jump in surprise.

"Incendio," he decided. "I own this floral shop. I tend to these flowers every day and every night."

"They must be thankful," Capucine responded before picking up a red rose and fingering the bud carefully, his expression relaxed before putting it back into the watery bucket. "I wished the clouds had flowers. I wished the clouds were decorated with these beautiful colors. I should probably get going and find out where my crazy cousin wandered off to..."

"Since your stay on Earth is temporary, why don't you take a bundle with you?" The words softly glided out of his mouth, like he always waited for the right person to say them to. He felt himself grow hotter once more as the male's eyes glittered before drooping like a flower wet from the rain.

"I have no money to offer you for these beautiful colors..."

"You can have a bundle as a gift," the male reassured before turning towards the buckets and buckets of pretty flowers. "What's your favorite color? That'll make it easy to narrow down since there's a lot of flowers."

"I am a sucker for light shades of blue," Capucine admitted as a small hue decorated their soft features. Without thinking, Incendio grabbed a star-shaped, light blue colored flower and bundled it up with a pink ribbon before gently handing it to the cloud prince.

"What type of flower is this?? This is so pretty!!" Gushed the male, his cheeks turning a shade of pink before a large smile drew itself upon their thin lips. Seeing the male's face obscured by flowers sent ice butterflies dancing around his stomach region.

"Forget-me-nots so you will never forget your first day being down here," Incendio explained as he watched Capucine take a sniff, reaching a hand out towards the brilliant flame before feeling the heat radiating and drawing back. Incendio swore he felt a cold aura for a millisecond - making this the closest encounter he had ever experienced before.

"Thank you. I will cherish these.." the male explained before opening up the store door and softly exiting the building before Incendio had the time to tell the individual he was always welcomed back at his flower shop and appreciated his company. The flame-man turned his flames towards the forget-me-nots that sat in a hidden place between the roses and sunflowers before taking off the gloves and burying his face within his hands.

Forget-me-nots weren't just a symbol of not forgetting but of something he wanted to experience and hold close to him - love. It was a symbol of love. The flame turned around and faced a mirror that gleamed and shimmered that hung on an old, rusty nail and leaned closer as the ripple of heat once again made a comeback. The tips of his flames...

The tips of his flames was a color he wasn't quite familiar with. When he turned into a blue flame, he was angry (something that never really happened), green was sadness and now... a soft pink was manifesting. Was this... was this what it felt like to be utterly enamored by someone? Was this the beginning of something?

He watched in the mirror as his orange-yellow flame turned to a soft pink as ice butterflies danced within his stomach as his mind raced with the idea of Capucine visiting again and ... being his friend. A friend he never had and experienced the feeling of being wanted.

He would wait for Capucine's return. Maybe, just maybe he would find Capucine when he was done with work and help him track down Maxen. Time would tell... time would tell. 

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