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Three - Flower of shame

I took a moment to watch him walk ahead, bent over his map and looking up every so often at the trees to ensure he was going the right way. A few yards away he stopped and looked back at me.

"Well? Are you going to just stand there?"

I shook my head and returned his easy smile, stepping around the small plants on the ground and beginning to follow Eric back through the forest.

Eric alternated between looking at his map and out at the forest, his brow furrowed as he navigated through the woods. He hummed lightly under his breath, posture relaxed and straight, towering about half a foot above me. I had never wanted to learn about someone so badly, yet I did not know how to begin.

"How did you choose to come to Madison?" I asked as we walked.

"I didn't exactly choose Madison itself," he replied easily. "It was mostly the forest. I was driving through town one day and came across these woods, and I thought it would be the perfect ecosystem to observe."

I nodded. "I see."

"And you?" He asked. "I assume you've been here for a long time?"

I nodded again. "Yes. My father has had two terms as mayor, which means…at least ten years. I've lost track."

"I wouldn't peg you as the daughter of a politician, if I'm honest," he said. "Not to stereotype anyone, or anything. It's just my first impression."

"I understand," I said. "I don't really fit the role of a politician's daughter. I don't very much enjoy all the parties I have to go to. I'm a bit of an introvert."

"That's understandable. There must be a lot of hand shaking you have to do at all those parties."

I laughed lightly. "Yes, there definitely is."

Eric stopped walking suddenly, brow furrowed. I stopped beside him, watching him curiously.

"It should be here somewhere," he murmured, eyes scanning the landscape around us.

I looked around, seeing forest stretching for miles, but no familiar sign of the path or the way back to Madison.

"What should be here?"

His eyes flashed to me briefly before back down at his map, lifting his hand to point to a small symbol on the paper. He turned towards me and his gaze drifted to something behind me, and then a slow smile slipped across his lips.

"Ah, yes. Here it is." He walked past me, folding up his map and putting it in his pocket. I turned as well, confused.

He had walked over to a bloom of pink flowers, stopping short in front of them. Slowly I followed, looking down at the thick bushel.

It seemed a bit out of place for the middle of the forest; with the screaming pink flowers that each seemed to compete for your attention, each bloomed bigger and more flamboyant than the last.

"Peonies," Eric said. "Sometimes known as a symbol for shame or bashfulness, yet they represent prosperity and honor in China. They're also a symbol for bravery in Japan."

"Were they planted here by someone?" I asked.

"I don't believe so. This isn't the only bloom I've found, so I assume they're native to the forest, unless someone felt the need to plant peonies in random places all over the woodland a few years ago."

I leaned forward, brushing my fingertips against the petals of one of them. "They're beautiful."

"Yes," Eric said. He reached down and, in an effortless motion, plucked a single flower from the monolithic bushel.

He turned towards me, holding out the single peony. "Happy birthday."

I was taken aback by his kind gesture, blush rising to my cheeks as I accepted the flower from him. The petals were soft and the stem was smooth and green, and it was beautiful, but not quite as beautiful as the gesture was.

"Thank you," I said, looking back up at Eric, who wore a satisfied half smile. "…For the flower of shame."

He let out a laugh. "Prosperity and honor in China," he said. "And bravery in Japan."

I held the flower in my hands. "I'm kidding," I said with a smile. "Really, thank you. You don't know how much this means to me, after a day of being forgotten."

"I thought it might cheer you up," he said, pulling the map back out of his pocket.

"Now. Let's keep going, shall we?"

The two of us began walking again, the peony in my hand, the map held in Eric's.

The rest of the walk was short, and soon the path came into view. We stepped over the shrubs bordering it and our shoes hit the paved soil, our footsteps falling into sync.

When we reached the forest's edge, Eric stopped.

"I assume you know your way from here," he said, traces of a smile on his face.

"Yes," I said. "Thank you so much for your help…and the birthday wish."

The traces of a smile turned into a real one, his lips lifting delicately. "Of course… Luna."

It seemed that my name had eluded him for a split second before rolling off his tongue in an even syllable. He reached up to push a stray hair from his face, readjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder.

I didn't want this to be the last time I talked to him. I didn't want to go home and put this peony in a vase and have it wilt a few days later; I didn't want to run over my conversation with him in my head and want to talk to him more just to talk to someone that hadn't lived in this small town for ages; I didn't want to let my encounter with him shrivel up and evaporate.

So I said, "Tomorrow evening my father's having a campaign party. If you'd like to come, you'd be welcome."

A slight breeze whispered through, moving past us and into the forest. I pushed my hair out of my eyes.

"Maybe I'll stop by," Eric said.

I nodded and smiled at him again before saying a soft goodbye and turning to walk home, the peony dangling from my fingers. 

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