Holidays Unearthed

by Bookish Delight

Rating: everyone
Tags: Juniper Montage, Equestria Girls, Slice of Life, Wallflower Blush
Length: 6529

Wallflower and Juniper have regrets. They also have each other, so it's not as bad as it could be.

Juniper Montage and Wallflower Blush get together in the local park for a walk. That's all.

...okay, maybe Wallflower might have asked to see Juniper for a special reason. And maybe they both need to get their minds off of crippling past regrets and relationship uneasiness.

But for now? Just walking.

Part of the Montage Cinematic Universe.
Cover art by Bevin Brand (lineart) and Shaxbert (colors).

Published 2020-09-23 17:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2020-09-23 17:30:01 UTC

1: They Meet

Snow fell over Canterlot City, as it did most winters. And—also as often—several of its flakes, amidst their slow, lackadaisical freefall, found their way atop the greenery of Canterlot City’s parks.

However, not all of that greenery necessarily belonged to trees.

Wallflower Blush smiled as she watched the snow descend, with multiple flakes gradually coming to rest on her head. She didn’t mind them—she enjoyed the aesthetic they gave this time of year. She also liked the feel, the touch, of tiny frozen kisses on her skin—as well as whatever she could catch with her tongue.

That last was only when nobody was looking, of course. Sometimes, it was still okay to be by one’s lonesome.

Nature, however, was always around her. People took Nature for granted; its wonders, its sights, sounds, even smells. Emotion existed in the wind, history in the sky, artistry in the myriad tapestries of colors. Even here in Canterlot Suburban Park, the most average and ordinary of parks Wallflower had ever known, the smell of pine mixed with an invigorating winter breeze to create the feeling of being in the world’s biggest greenhouse—missing only the heat.

Which was great, because Wallflower loved greenhouses. She’d live in one if she could do so without that silly, pesky risk of… what was it again? Oh, right. Death. Talk about your fatal flaws. Well, no home was perfect. Besides, being outside with Nature was hardly anything to sneeze at, either. It hugged her over her burgundy down coat, making sure she knew that it was there, even when partially shielded from its elements. She welcomed it, for she knew its embrace well.

Right now, however, Nature was incidental. She was here for a different entity’s embrace—or so she hoped.

Wallflower put her phone-friendly gloves back on, took her device out of her coat, and opened her text message window. After reading over the last few messages, she looked around, seeing nothing but white dots and random passersby.

Where is she? Wallflower mused, noting that her phone read 10:03am. She said we’d meet at ten. Did something happen? Did she decide she didn’t want to do this after all? Wait, no, she’d’ve texted me or called me if something were wrong. She’s nice like that, and it’s only been three minutes. Calm down, Wall. She won’t leave you—

Suddenly, she was a lot more conscious of how… by herself she was. The occasional person, or group of people, still walked by. None of them looked at her. They had no reason to, of course—she was just a single ordinary girl, sitting on a bench. Move along, nothing weird to see here.

But she vividly remembered when she wasn’t able to see herself as just Wallflower Blush, Ordinary Girl, sitting on a bench. She remembered silently crying for anyone, anyone at all, to notice her, to validate her existence—because she didn’t know how to find that validation for herself.

If anything, she’d only known how to increase the distance between it and herself. The days of Wallflower Blush, Invisible Girl, hadn’t been that long ago. And it was a feeling that was all too familiar, in those moments of vulnerability where it came back knocking at the door of her heart.

Apropos of nothing, the day became that much chillier, the kisses of the snowflakes now turning into small pinpricks. Her gloves went to her lips as she resisted the urge to nibble on them.

She won’t leave you alone, Wallflower. Unless… Her chest twisted. Unless something happened to her phone. That would be bad, too, but it wouldn’t be your fault… right?

Just as she was about to give in to a snack of fabric, she heard her name being called.

Huh?

Wallflower looked down the trail in front of her to see someone coming her way. They were still too far to make out completely, but she was able to make out a long dark blue winter coat, glasses… green hair like hers? Could it be?

It was.

Juniper Montage strode down the path, walking as fast as she could, but clearly taking care not to drop what was in her hands—two steaming cardboard cups. Whereas before it took all of Wallflower’s energy to push down her fear, it now took just as much to quell her excitement, her heartbeat now nearly audible.

At least the sudden rush of warmth was good for being out in winter.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” Juniper smiled as she approached. “But I come bearing gifts.”

Wallflower stood to meet Juniper, who promptly handed her a cardboard-sleeved coffee cup bearing the Starcolts logo. Wallflower sniffed the steam wafting from its open top, and her eyebrows shot up as its unmistakable rich, honeyed scent and flavor reached through her nose, and traveled all the way into her stomach. “You… Juniper, no way.”

“Absolutely way.” Juniper flourished, making a huge show of taking a dramatic, theatrical bow. “One matcha green tea latte, extra foam, extra cinnamon,with just the tiniest pinch of vanilla, brewed thirty seconds longer than standard. The 'Wallflower Blush Special', if my intel is correct. Except I had them use real sugar, because no artificial sweetener is touching either of us.” She made a face.

Wallflower sipped, squealing as the sweetness hit her taste buds. “The flavor’s perfect! Down to the last detail, even.” She looked up at Juniper in awe. “How did you know?”

“Hello? Niece of, and ex-gofer for, this continent’s biggest director?” Juniper preened, flipping her right ponytail. “I still know every barista in this city on a first name basis—well, except for the replacements for those who finally graduated university. Still, it didn't take much for me to find out where you often go for your tea, and what you always order, right before taking a whole booth to yourself.” Juniper’s grin showed teeth. “Who would have thought such a green thumb would have such a sweet tooth?”

Wallflower’s face burned as her cheeks tinted. “Well, thanks a ton. I haven’t had one of these in a while, much less had a friend surprise me with one… or had a friend in the first place who could, so, uh, yeah. This is pretty much the best gift ever.” She flashed Juniper a teasing smile. “If just the tiniest bit stalkery.”

Juniper blushed back. “Augh. Literally everybody’s a critic.”

The two laughed, bumping against one another. “I’m glad you came,” Wallflower said.

Juniper took a sip of her own cup, which Wallflower could see was marked as an order of chai latte. “Yeah, me too. I’ll try not to cut it so close next time. Wanna walk?”

Wallflower nodded, and the two started their stroll down the park’s trail.

2: The Chase

As Wallflower and Juniper walked along snow-covered grass, the former listened intently to the latter, who delighted in regaling Wallflower with stories of working in the movie industry. These days, Juniper worked more ‘alongside’ said industry—by Juniper’s own admission and nomenclature—at the Canterlot Mall Cinema.

But either angle fascinated Wallflower, if she was being completely honest—a view into worlds which were completely out of her element. Where beauty met technology. Where fame was alluring, mysterious, and something Wallflower could only dream of having.

Wallflower left it up to Juniper most days to decide which parts of her world she wanted to talk about. There were some days when Juniper was okay with ranting about the latest Marevel movie rush crowds—she was quite good at recounting hilarious customer service stories involving pedantic canon arguments, screaming children, and indignant parents, amidst snack machines, sticky floors, and soda fountains refusing to work correctly.

On other days, she was content to reminisce on her days working with Canter Zoom, one of the greatest directors in the business and her now-estranged uncle. Today was one of those days. Fortunately, Juniper was just as much a never-ending fountain of stories here as well, but these were just as often fascinating as they were entertaining—inside scoops that one would never find in the papers or on movie coverage sites.

“So Canter goes into his office,” Juniper was saying, “and he sees the crash test dummy prop from three scenes ago. I have to give it to Cheese Sandwich: when he goes for a prank, he goes for quality and quantity!” Juniper waved her arms, gesturing around a mock office while showing no regard for the cool breeze around them. “The dummy’s sitting back in Uncle Canter’s very expensive ergonomic chair, holding a phone up to his ear, wearing totally nothing—thank goodness those things weren’t anatomically correct—and with what totally looks like blood smeared all over his chest!”

Wallflower’s eyes went wide. “Was it, really?”

Juniper chuckled. “Thankfully, no. Canter moves closer to the dummy, realizes it is a dummy, then also realizes it smells like hot dogs. Cause the ‘blood stains’ are actually words, written in plain ol’ condiments from the lunchroom.”

“Seriously?” Wallflower giggled. “What did it say?”

“And I quote,” Juniper said, holding up one finger, “‘NOW I HAVE A KETCHUP GUN, HO HO HO.’”

Wallflower recognized the line, but blinked anyway. “Wait, like, from that movie we watched last week with the skyscraper?”

Juniper half-gushed, half-gasped. “That’s it!” she said with a squeal. “You remembered!”

“Of course I did,” Wallflower said. At Juniper’s insistence on it being a holiday season movie (which Wallflower didn’t get either, but it didn’t matter, she’d had fun), they’d recently watched all of Pie Hard—alone and cuddled together in Juniper’s private home theater. Her face warmed as she failed to elaborate on the exact reason for her suddenly sharp memory. “That… doesn’t mean the reference makes sense here, though.”

“You’re totally right!” Juniper snapped her fingers. “But it’s the nature of the prank that counts here. It doesn’t always have to make sense or have a reason behind it—just the fact that you pulled it off is enough. Especially with a prank as elaborate as that one.”

“Ahh, I see.” Wallflower nodded, her mouth open slightly. “Your uncle had to be mad, though.”

“Are you kidding?” Juniper giggled incessantly. “He laughed like an idiot! Unfortunately for Cheese, Uncle C used to be a huge prankster himself back in the day, and everyone on set had already learned never to challenge him… except a certain new intern who hadn’t had the chance to learn studio history yet.” Juniper’s eyes glinted as she adjusted her glasses. “The next payday, instead of Cheese finding a check in his envelope, it was instead a cryptic notice that served as the first clue to a scavenger hunt. It took him five hours running around the studio and the surrounding five blocks to finally learn that Uncle Canter had given the check to me to hold.” Juniper’s giggles turned to outright cackles.

Wallflower followed suit. “Okay, that is amazing.”

“Isn’t it, though? We had a lot of fun on that set, but no one ever crossed a line, or endangered anyone…” Juniper’s giggles faded, and she took on a sighing, faraway look. “…until recently, anyway.”

Whenever Juniper fell suddenly silent, it was a coin flip as to whether it was a good thing or not. Wallflower hunched on it being the latter this time. Placing a hand on Juniper’s arm, she said, “We don’t have to talk about studio life if you don’t want to, you know.”

Juniper sighed again. “I do know. Trouble is, I like talking about it with you. With you listening, I’m finally able to process the past instead of running away from it. I’m able to think about the good times again, acknowledge how much I miss them, without totally falling apart.” She turned to look into Wallflower’s eyes, and Wallflower could see them dancing with hope amidst sadness. “What I’m saying is, you’re a massive miracle worker, in an adorable small green package.”

Wallflower’s face heated again. “Okay, but promise me you’ll stop the moment it hurts. All right?”

Juniper nodded. “You got it.”

Wallflower squeezed Juniper’s arm, leaning into her, and the two continued down the trail pressed closer together. “So, whatever happened to… Cheese, was it? Does he still work there?”

“Nah. Despite being outdone by Canter, he actually had a real knack for good-natured comedy. He went indie about a year before I did. We’ve met at a couple film festivals. He better watch out, though, cause I’m right behind him—” Juniper stopped suddenly, her hands in her coat pockets, staring at the sky with a smile.

Silence again. This time, Wallflower guessed in the other direction. “What is it?” she asked anyway?

“Nothing bad, actually. It’s just… I’m really glad I can say lines like that now. I’m happy that I feel I have somewhere to go, something to work towards again… even if it’s nothing near what I expected.”

Wallflower nodded. “I’ve had the same feelings lately too.”

Juniper’s face lit up. “Seriously? That’s awesome! What’s cooking in Wallflower-land?”

Wallflower said nothing, only shifting her eyes. Was there anything she could say that wouldn’t spoil the surprise?

Fortunately, Juniper seemed to catch on. “Oh, I see,” she said, with a mock-pointed glare and smirk, and a dismissive wave. “Some secrets to keep? It’s fine, it’s fine. I mean, it’s not like we’re girlfriends or anything.”

“It won’t be secret for long, I promise!” Wallflower said, thinking ahead to what she knew she had in store for Juniper in just a little while, and doing her best not to fantasize about Juniper’s possible reactions yet again. “I don’t ever want to keep secrets from you,” she added, and she meant it. "Bad secrets, anyway. I reserve the right to hold surprise birthday parties and stuff."

“First: thanks, I appreciate that. Second: it’s fine, I’m totally just messing.” Juniper giggled, then looked up at the sky once more. “So yeah, here we are. We can just… be ourselves, be outside, look at the sun, and be happy. Oh, and wear gorgeous stuff while just being gorgeous.” Juniper let go, stepping back and sizing Wallflower up with a wink. “By which I do mean both of us,” she added, ignoring Wallflower’s failing to hold back a blush. “And just think: all it took was for us to take a chance on each other. Along with a few other people. And a few other people taking chances on us. Okay, I should probably stop before this becomes a social skyscraper.”

A thought came to Wallflower—something she wouldn’t normally go through with, but she’d found herself feeling more playful in recent months than she ever had over the rest of her life. “So,” she said, with a smile not unlike that of a small kitten just having caught the family bird, “are you trying to say that the real cure for our sadness was the friends we met along the way?”

Juniper stopped, stood stock still, and blanched on the spot, which was exactly the reaction Wallflower expected.

“I understood that reference,” Juniper slowly said, her face showing the look of a girl close to crumpling in annoyed laughter, “and let the record show that I despise you for it.”

Wallflower was close to the same. Putting her mittens to her mouth, she replied, “You made me this way!”

“I also told you to use these powers for good! You know the penalty for terrible memes!” Juniper bent down to the snow, picking up clumps in her hands; Wallflower followed a second later. Juniper managed to hurl the first snowball a mere second before having to dodge Wallflower’s, and the laughing chase began, the both of them throwing snow back and forth at each other.

Wallflower ran further down the trail, towards the denser forestry ahead, tossing snowballs as best she could behind herself while doing so. However, Juniper’s longer legs allowed her to slowly gain on her quarry, and it wasn’t long before one could almost reach out and touch the other—

Which was when Wallflower heard a desperate yell.

“Ohnostupidlongcoatwallflowerwatchout—”

Juniper must have tripped in the show, as Wallflower had barely avoided doing no less than a dozen times. On instinct, Wallflower gasped, running back into Juniper’s path and catching her. The two landed softly below, Juniper on top of Wallflower, the snow-covered grass below them crinkling and crumbling.

It took some moments for Juniper to realize what had happened.

“Huh?” she said, looking around, seeing where she was, putting two and two together, and then smiling down at Wallflower. “Whoa. My hero. Just another reason I’m happy you let me into your life.”

“I mean, you seemed nice enough at the time?” Wallflower reached up, placing her hand on Juniper’s cheek. “And I needed someone, too. Thanks for showing up.”

They laid there, simply enjoying one another’s company, Wallflower very conscious of the temperature between them, and Juniper’s breathing—when she felt something else, too. “Junie?”

“Yeah, Wall?” Juniper said.

“Really enjoying this trope.”

Juniper sighed. “Yeah, me too.”

Wallflower smirked. “Scalp’s freezing now, though.”

“Oh!” Juniper giggled sheepishly. “Right.” They picked themselves up, brushing snow off of each others’ outfits and hair, and Juniper cleaning her glasses. “You gotta admit, though: that was a total movie moment.” She paused, then added, “Also, a ton of anime—especially if you do it with zero self-awareness whatsoever. Anyway, that’s probably enough silliness. You’re the one who originally called this meeting, and I’m still wondering why.”

Wallflower nodded, looking towards the forestry that was close to them now. Their snowball fight had carried them closer to their destination faster than Wallflower had predicted.

In other words, it was now or never.

“I wanted to show you something,” Wallflower said with a beckoning gesture. “Follow me.”

3: The Gift (Pt. 1)

Wallflower expertly navigated trees and pushed aside bushes as she led Juniper through the thickness of Canterlot Suburban Park’s forest area. She waited after each bush, each hedge, each branch, holding them out when needed so that Juniper could follow in her footsteps with as little trouble as possible.

This meant that Wallflower was progressing at a much slower pace than she usually did when following this particular path, but it was okay. She was quite used to, and enjoyed, sifting through and being one with so much foliage. But while she knew Juniper also liked greenery, being this up close and personal with it, Wallflower had learned over time, was a trait unique to herself—and perhaps a few others in the #GardenersForLife Snapgab group.

As if to back up Wallflower’s reasoning, Juniper spoke just then. “Not that I mind all these plants—okay, my jacket does a little—but I never got why the rest of this area hasn’t been blown wide open yet. I mean, there’s definitely a trail here, but all this foliage is still in the way! No one’s tried to take a weed whacker to this place?”

“Oh, it’s been tried a few times.” Wallflower snuck an impish look back at Juniper while pushing aside another bush. “But it’s the oddest thing: all these bushes and trees keep growing back as fast as people can get rid of them. Right during the most popular tourist months, too. No one can explain it.”

“Oh. Huh.” Wallflower’s expression wasn’t lost on Juniper in the slightest. With a chuckling eyeroll, the latter grinned back. “Darn those mischievous plants!” she said, shaking a fist. “We’ll get 'em yet.”

Wallflower giggled. “You’re welcome to try. But for now…”

A single tall hedge stood between Wallflower and what she wanted to show Juniper. Wallflower approached it, stood her ground in front of it, as if it were a stout opponent.

In some ways it was. Today, in a very real way, it had the power of the Unknown on its side, and the Unknown was always Wallflower’s weakness—especially when it came to what other people thought of her.

But today, Wallflower decided, she would stand up to that weakness, take that fear head on, and push it aside.

The hedge gave way, lightly prickling her fingers, and Wallflower gestured for Juniper to head through. She closed her eyes, waiting for the reaction which would inevitably come.

When she heard the gasp, Wallflower knew it was time. She opened her eyes, her heart shaking as she looked at Juniper…

…who didn’t look bored, or unhappy. Her eyes were wide, her hand was to her mouth, but Wallflower had known Juniper long enough by now to tell the crinkles of Juniper’s lips and cheeks, what they meant, and whether they were positive, or otherwise.

This was definitely positive.

Not giving herself the chance to convince herself otherwise, nor giving Juniper a chance to talk, Wallflower blurted out her explanation. “Okay, so, after the whole Memory Stone thing, I opened up my garden at Canterlot High School to the student body, but after a while I realized it left me without my own place to retreat when I needed alone time, which I also realized that even though I have friends sometimes I still need, so I set a new one up here!” She inhaled deeply several times to catch her breath, her heart still shaking as she awaited Juniper’s answer.

Which Juniper gave in short order, her eyes still sparkling in awe. “That makes total sense, but… winter.” She gestured her arm around the clearing in the midst of an otherwise dense forest, which looked as pristine as any garden would in spring—filled with grass, flowers of all sorts of breeds and colors arranged in patterns, and even leaves and flowers dripping with snow, to make the perfect picturesque miniature winterscape.

“Garden in winter,” Juniper reiterated, running back and forth through the place, while being visibly careful not to step on any flowers. “Garden in winter garden in winter heck greenery on the way here while half the trees around them were bare how?” she exclaimed, darting back to Wallflower and waving her arms.

Wallflower smiled. She’d wondered how long it would take for Juniper to catch on to the trail’s unique properties, if she did at all. “Not all plants go away just because it’s winter. Some thrive in this climate. Others less so, but can still be made to hang in there given the right conditions and care. I made it a personal project to see if I could make a winter garden, since I never had before. I did some research, planted some seeds…” Wallflower counted on her hands. “Pansies, aconites, daffodils, a few others. Then I calculated bloom periods as best I could. Do…” Wallflower took a deep breath, glancing away. “Do you think it looks all right?”

“All right? Wallflower, this is beautiful,” Juniper said—and instantly, Wallflower felt invisible sunbeams shining warmly all over herself. After a pause, Juniper put thoughtful fingers to her chin and added, “I mean, this would be beautiful even if it somehow weren’t just a garden. The shapes and colors, the atmosphere…” She made a rectangle with both thumbs and index fingers, peering through with one open eye while pacing back and forth. “I feel like I’m standing in a forest made of pure inspiration right now. There’s so much here that any director could do with this—even me, as green as I am. Pardon the expression.”

Juniper walked in front of Wallflower, centering the latter within her finger-screen—then, with a nod and a lick of her lips, she took out her phone, activated its camera mode, and pointed it at Wallflower. “Do me a favor and strike a pose? I want to try something.”

Wallflower gave a small smile and a wave for Juniper’s camera.

“Awesome!” Juniper gave a small squeal of excitement. “Okay, slight upgrade. Could you go ahead and act like you’re tending to this place? Just for a short bit.”

Wallflower smiled. “I don’t have to act, there’s always something here I can do.” She walked around the garden, kneeling sometimes to smooth out some of the flowers, wipe snow off branches, brush stalks and petals for bugs—though in winter that wasn’t much of a task—all while Juniper filmed her.

After the promised short bit, Juniper nodded. “Okay, that’s perfect.” She pressed a few more buttons on her phone, stared at it for a while, then said, “Eeeeee! Wally, come take a look!”

Wallflower rushed over, and Juniper showed her phone’s screen. Wallflower had never actually watched herself tending to her own plants before. It was… interesting, for bare starters. The movements, with the constant stops and starts, was mundane, to be sure, yet oddly captivating.

“I know that to you, this just looks like a bangin’ garden,” Juniper said, “and it is. But the design that went into it—the colors, the lining, the strategic symmetry? The second I saw this place, I saw the perfect movie set. And I do mean perfect. This is, like, seriously on par with the best designers in Applewood.”

"Really? Wallflower asked, glancing back at the footage again… and noticing herself smiling. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled while doing gardening work. At least, not consciously.

“Really really,” Juniper said. “And even this stuff right here? Feels way more real than the Applewood stuff. They’re always trying for glitz and glamour. This is earnest. It’s real.”

Beaming at Wallflower, Juniper added, “I won’t tell anyone about this place, but I have to come here with a better camera and shoot something. This deserves it. I’m thinking you might be a design prodigy. Whatever you’ve got inside you… keep it. Definitely make more of this stuff. Even if it's just for fun. Heck, especially if it's fun.”

Without replying with words, Wallflower looked around the garden one more time, marveling at what was present, in the context of everything Juniper had said. There was color theory in her flower arrangements. There was symmetry, there was visual setup and payoff. Quite a bit of it had been on purpose, but none of it had been at the front of her mind during planting. A lot of it had just been her applying what she’d known for years, then just adding plants and sights she personally liked on top of it.

But now, taking a step back…

I did make this, didn’t I? And… Juniper really thinks it’s…

Wallflower blinked—and found herself reliving the moments of creation of so many other gardens before this one, of so many planting sessions before this one…

…of retreating to so many gardens before this one. Lonely, and crying, usually in the dark due to trees covering her, keeping her shut away from the world, safe from the rest of the world—

She choked on the lump in her throat and blinked again, taking herself back to reality… and back to the footage of herself smiling for the first time in as far back as she could remember while tending to one of her creations.

She looked over at Juniper, who smiled back at her. She wanted to smile as well, and she tried—but her lips felt too heavy to do so.

Instead, the next thing Wallflower knew, she was sniffling, and hugging Juniper as tightly as she could.

4: The Gift (Pt. 2)

For years, Nature had been the closest thing Wallflower had to a friend.

But there was one thing Nature couldn’t do, no matter how hard Wallflower tried: hold a conversation, in any form.

Nature couldn’t grow and change along with her, couldn’t work or play alongside her—mainly because it didn’t want to. Nature always did its own thing, and sometimes it was painfully easy for Wallflower to tell when she wasn’t part of Nature’s equation. When she didn’t fit into Nature’s schedule.

When Nature couldn’t care less.

“Wallflower? What’s wrong?”

But then, there was Juniper Montage.

Who could always talk with her, listen to her, and wanted to do both, ever since they’d met completely by chance, and grown close—to the point where, if Wallflower’s world consisted of only plants and Juniper, she might actually be okay with it.

Oh, and Juniper was also completely okay with Wallflower sobbing into her coat, apparently. Which was good, because she couldn’t stop. She’d been trying for a while now.

“Whoa, whoa, hey. Hey, now, I’m here.” Wallflower felt Juniper’s arms wrap around her, and felt one of Juniper’s hands stroke her hair, causing Wallflower to hold on tighter in response. “We can stand here and talk about what’s eating you for as long as you want. Or not. Just tell me what’s going on, when you’re ready.” Juniper paused, then sighed, and added, “It was how I got all excited just now, isn’t it? Sorry about that. I know I get really into things, and I forget to stop and think if I’m embarrassing anyone when I do—”

“No!” Wallflower exclaimed, a little too loudly, stepping back and looking into Juniper’s glasses-adorned eyes. “It’s not that. It’s never that, don’t ever change, just don’t… don’t ever stop being you. Okay?” she asked, gasping for breath.

“Okay,” Juniper said, her voice leveling off. “So… you’re okay?”

Wallflower nodded. “Better than. Trust me.”

Slowly, Juniper’s smile healed. “Okay, awesome.”

Wallflower looked at Juniper again, rubbing her eyes through with her own smile.

A lot of girls… way too many… don’t get to have what I have now. Especially not as a second chance.

Wallflower refused to waste it. But she also knew she was better at showing than talking. Gift-of-gab was Juniper’s department. “Anyway, thanks for the kind words about the garden. They mean a lot, especially given the last thing I planted that I want to show you.”

“Last thing?” Juniper looked up. “Kind of hard to single anything out on a set this elaborate. Not that that’s a bad thing, trust me.”

Wallflower’s smile slanted. “Look around, look closer. Tell me exactly what you see, everything you see, that isn’t a flower.”

Juniper did so. “I see… a whole bunch of bushes and shrubs, filling out anywhere the flowers aren’t, with really cute shades of green. Makes the whole place look full.” With a small inquisitive noise, she added, “Really, they’re kind of the unsung heroes of this place. The flowers, awesome and beautiful as they are, would look really lonely without them. They hold everything together.”

Wallflower felt the excitement bubbling again. “Thanks for noticing,” she said, tiptoeing to whisper in the other girl’s ear: “They’re my new collection of junipers.”

Juniper’s face went completely red as the words sank in. “You know, I really should have caught that,” she said after several long moments.

Wallflower giggled, walking around the garden. “I don’t blame you for not doing so. There are lots of different varieties of junipers, many named for the different parts of the world they’re native to, and each with their own hue and blossoming style. There are so many even I didn’t know about.” Wallflower gestured to shrubs which ranged from bright green to aquamarine, from firm and upright to smooth-textured, and everything in between.

She returned to Juniper, her smile the biggest of the afternoon. “Without junipers,” she said softly, “this garden couldn’t exist. They’re the backbone. They’re evergreen. They survive and persevere even when things look their coldest and bleakest. Once I learned the full extent of what they are and could do… they gave me the motivation to go for the whole garden. And I’m glad I did. Because now I have this,” she said, placing her hand on a gaping, short-of-breath Juniper’s cheek. "So I’ll always have a reminder of how lucky I am to be who I am.

“What I’m saying is…” Never breaking her gaze at Juniper, Wallflower’s right hand trailed down to thumb the juniper berry pin fastened to the chest of Juniper’s coat. “…you’re a subtle miracle worker, in an adorable, larger-than-life green package.”

The silence which followed Wallflower’s words was long, understated by their breaths and a winter breeze which gently tickled their faces. Juniper’s expression was unblinking, her mouth still slightly agape, though Wallflower could also see Juniper’s lips quivering ever so slightly.

Which was a huge mood for Wallflower, given the events of roughly five minutes ago, but still. She put her hands down. “Junie? Are… are you all right?”

Juniper jolted as if startled, then said, “Y-yeah, hang on.” She dug into her purse, taking out a cloth and making a show of turning away to clean her glasses again—though Wallflower did notice her sneak her arm across her eyes in a telltale fashion. Juniper then turned back with a smile, placing her glasses back on.

“There we go, all good now.” She placed her hands on Wallflower’s shoulders. “I… Wallflower, I really…” Juniper shut her eyes tight, shook her head, and tried again. “Thanks. I… no one’s ever…” She blinked several times more, and each time she did, Wallflower could see more tears falling again…

…until, voice cracking, Juniper finally just cried, “Oh, to hell with this!” and pulled Wallflower into a tight embrace, and an even firmer kiss.

Sometimes, tiny frozen snowflake kisses were quite nice, and all Wallflower needed to feel good about the day.

And sometimes, incredibly heated kisses in the midst of winter, from someone she loved, and who she knew loved her, were just what the botanist ordered.

Amidst a wintergreen backdrop, and through tears which refused to end for both girls, Wallflower gradually backed Juniper against a nearby tree as they kissed deeply for as long as they wished. As far as Wallflower was concerned, this was a perfect substitute for a greenhouse, to say nothing of portable—and aromatic, what with Juniper still smelling of chai and mint from her earlier drink.

Minutes, seconds, it wasn’t Wallflower’s place to know or care how long the kiss lasted—only that they both had to breathe deeply once it was over, and they parted. Juniper, for her part, slouched against the tree, a lazy smile on her face. “I’ve… been wanting to do that… since I got here,” she said through gasps.

“Me too,” Wallflower said, hesitating for a short while before deciding to just speak her mind. “I think we should, then. Kiss more, I mean,” she said, her entire face now a sauna. “Only when we both want to, of course.”

Juniper looked happy to hear these words… but she also looked uneasy. Uneasier than Wallflower had ever seen her, even when talking about movie studio life. Not only did Nature have trouble listening, it had trouble remembering. Wallflower always made sure to not share this flaw, especially around those she cared for. “Juniper?”

Juniper glanced away, hugging herself. “Are you sure…? I… I-I don’t want to be weird about this stuff.”

Wallflower tilted her head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Snowflakes fell again, through the forest canopy above. “This thing we have… whatever it is… I’ve been doing it all by the skin of my teeth this whole time. Every love story I’ve seen, every romance movie, is all hormones and makeouts, and rollercoaster plotlines centering on whether or not two people will get together, stay together, or break up, and that’s…” She took a deep breath, exhaling loudly. “That’s nothing like us, is it?”

“So many books, and the girls at school, sound a lot like those movies, too.” Wallflower put her hand on Juniper’s shoulder. “But no, I don’t think we’re anything like that, either.”

“Exactly!” Juniper blurted out. “And I like what we have! There’s so little… I guess, pressure? We’re just ourselves, and I don’t want to prove all that stuff right. I don’t want what we have to be that… that shallow!” Juniper threw her arms up. “Relationships aren’t all just kisses and PDA’s and emotional crashburns all the time, are they? They can’t be! They should make sense! They should exist because of things… right?” Juniper looked genuinely confused herself, looking around with her own brand of confusion before letting out a long sigh.

And yet, being one with Nature still had some benefits.

Wallflower smiled, with sage beyond her years—wisdom gained from observing people in her old, ever-pining, invisible state. Who knew that she would be in their shoes someday?

“I don’t have a lifetime’s worth of movies to draw from,” she said, "but I do know that for plants, the key to a long life and good growth is a healthy root structure. In other words, a strong foundation." She bent down and gave a nearby shrub a couple of pulls in Juniper’s view to demonstrate. It refused to budge. Satisfied that Juniper understood her point, she stood back up. “So, do you think what we have together is as shallow as those movies?”

Juniper shook her head. “I’m practically drowning in what we’ve got.”

Wallflower blushed. "And do you like… kissing me?"

“Are you nuts I’d do it forever if I—” Juniper stopped herself, blushing back. “I mean… yeah, maybe a little.”

Wallflower giggled. “Good, because I do too. So I… don’t think we need reasons to kiss, outside of the fact that we like each other? I know this is the first time in a relationship for both of us, and it may last… or it might not. I mean, I hope it does, but…”

Juniper rolled her eyes and groaned. “Ugh, the movies never cover that possibility either. It’s always ‘true soul mate love, happily ever after,’ never ‘two people who gradually found out they just really like being around each other and it went somewhere, kind of’.” Juniper grinned. “Beginning to appreciate the concept of variety.”

“I don’t know—the latter definitely sounds like too much nuance to fit into a two-hour Applewood blockbuster.” Wallflower winked. “No offense meant, of course.”

“Are you kidding?” Juniper laughed. “You took the words right out of my mouth!” She sighed again. “So, kick the romcom plots to the curb for good?”

“For now, maybe. I’ll do the same with all the gym class locker room talk.” Wallflower clasped Juniper’s hands. “And instead, I propose we explore what we have together, figure out what works, for us, and what doesn’t.” With a giggle, Wallflower added, “And then you can take that and make a real romance movie, that knows what it’s doing.”

Juniper’s eyes sparkled in the daylight, amidst the snowflakes. “Why do you always know how to speak my language?”

And one last time, Wallflower lost herself in Juniper’s eyes on purpose. “Because I pay attention. And I plan to keep doing it.”

“That’s a really good practice that I’m also in favor of you continuing.” Juniper met Wallflower’s eyes in kind, and pointed to her glasses. “I promise, my camera lens will always be centered on you, too.”

“Back to the terrible puns, I see,” Wallflower giggled once more, hand to her mouth. “Guess you’re feeling better now?”

“Yeah,” Juniper said, bringing her face close. “I guess I am.”

As she and Juniper kissed again under the canopy of Nature, Wallflower decided that there was, at last, a tangible difference between being by herself, and being herself.

And she was grateful that, now, finally, she had a choice between the two.