[In the morning, the pot sits on the windowsill that receives the most sun through the day, as instructed...with the hint of a folded up note tucked underneath. Should it disappear, the reader would find, in a far more ordinary scrawl,
You're writing to an alleycat not a fly, Fiore. Show a guy some mercy.
...Seems he's decided to not be too offended by the comparison to his waning eyes and the similarly pale moon. The rest of it, once he was able to make out the poem and recognize the plant, was just too charming to feel fussed about it.]
no subject
...Seems he's decided to not be too offended by the comparison to his waning eyes and the similarly pale moon. The rest of it, once he was able to make out the poem and recognize the plant, was just too charming to feel fussed about it.]