Earlier, Lillian had told me to take care of the plants in the garden, but there was one glaring problem, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.
Even in my past life, plants were more of a distant concept than a reality. I didn't go outside much, didn't touch grass (figuratively or literally), and the closest I'd come to gardening was probably watching someone water their lawn in a TV show.
I mean, I was watering the plants now, but was that it? Was there some secret gardening ritual I was missing? Did I need to chant to them? Sprinkle magic dust? Talk to them?
I would've asked Tessa or Claire for help, but naturally, I was the only one on duty today. Of course. Just my luck.
As I stood there, staring at a particularly wilted-looking flower with a mix of guilt and helplessness, a soft voice broke through my spiraling thoughts.
"Need some help?"
I turned, and there she was. Lillian, radiant as always, like some kind of gardening goddess descending from the heavens to rescue me from my incompetence.
Ah, the angel of the heroines had heard my silent prayers!
"Lillian," I said, trying to keep the relief out of my voice and failing miserably. "Yeah, sort of."
She smiled, her presence instantly calming my frayed nerves. "What seems to be the trouble?"
I gestured vaguely at the garden beds around me. "Uh, all of it? I mean, I'm watering them, but is that all I'm supposed to do? Because if it is, I feel like I'm doing a terrible job."
Lillian chuckled softly, her laughter like a gentle breeze. "Don't worry, Sera. Everyone feels a little unsure at first." She stepped closer, her gaze scanning the flowers with practiced ease. "It's not just about watering. You need to check the soil, prune the leaves, and make sure they're getting enough sunlight. Each plant has its own needs."
"Right..." I said, nodding as if I understood. Truthfully, her explanation only made me feel more out of my depth.
Noticing my overwhelmed expression, Lillian placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "How about I show you? It's easier when you see it in action."
"Please do," I said, feeling like a student who'd just admitted they didn't do their homework.
She crouched down beside one of the flowerbeds, her movements graceful and deliberate. "For example, see this plant here? The soil looks dry, so you'll want to water it, but not too much. Overwatering can be just as bad as letting it dry out." She demonstrated, pouring a small amount of water at the base of the plant.
"Got it," I said, trying to commit her every move to memory.
"And here," she continued, pointing to a plant with a few wilted leaves. "These need to be pruned so the plant can focus its energy on the healthy parts. Just snip them off like this."
I watched as she gently clipped away the dead leaves, her touch so delicate it was almost reverent. It was clear she had a deep connection with the garden, and for a moment, I felt a pang of envy at how effortlessly she made it look.
"See? Not so hard," Lillian said, looking up at me with an encouraging smile.
"Easy for you to say," I muttered, but her smile made it impossible to stay frustrated.
"Don't worry, Sera," she said, rising to her feet. "You'll get the hang of it. And if you ever need help, I'll always be around."
I felt a warmth spread through me at her words, though I quickly brushed it off. "Thanks, Lillian. I'll try not to kill the plants in the meantime."
She laughed again, her soft, melodic voice as soothing as the gentle rustle of the garden. "I have faith in you, Sera. Here, let me guide you."
Before I could protest, Lillian stepped closer, placing a small, elegant clip in my hands. Her touch lingered for just a moment, sending a faint spark up my arm. "Kneel down," she instructed with a smile, her tone light and teasing. "I'll guide you through the process so you don't accidentally harm any of these precious plants."
Her laughter was warm, not mocking, but it still made me feel a little self-conscious. Without a word, I obeyed, lowering myself to the ground.
Then she moved behind me, her presence impossibly close. I froze as she leaned in, her arms lightly brushing mine as she wrapped her hands around mine, guiding them toward a wilted leaf. "Just like this," she murmured, her voice soft and intimate, the words grazing the shell of my ear.
I couldn't breathe.
Her breath was warm against my shoulder, and her touch was featherlight yet grounding. Her fingers, delicate yet firm, guided mine through the careful act of clipping away the dead parts of the plant. I should have been paying attention to her instructions, but all I could focus on was her—her proximity, her voice, the faint scent of flowers that seemed to cling to her.
"See? Gently now," Lillian said, her voice dropping to a near whisper as if she were sharing a secret. Her hand pressed lightly against mine, ensuring I didn't rush the motion.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "R-right," I managed, though the word came out shaky.
Lillian chuckled softly, the sound like a warm breeze. "Relax, Sera. Gardening is about patience, care, and a steady hand." She paused for a moment, her fingers resting lightly atop mine. "Though I have to admit, I find this rather endearing. You're trying so hard."
Her teasing tone sent a jolt through me, and I could feel the warmth rising to my cheeks. I was certain my face was glowing brighter than any flower in the garden. "I'm not... trying that hard," I mumbled, though my voice betrayed me.
"Of course not," she said playfully, and I could almost hear the smile in her voice. She guided my hand again, this time letting her fingers linger a little longer than necessary. "But I do think you have a natural talent for this. With a little practice, you might even rival me."
I snorted at that, though it came out more nervous than I'd intended. "I doubt that. You're like... a goddess of the garden or something. I'm just trying not to ruin anything."
Lillian laughed again, leaning in just slightly closer. Her breath tickled my neck, and I swore I felt my heart skip a beat. "A goddess, am I? You flatter me, Sera. But perhaps... I'll take that as a compliment."
"It's not flattery, it's the truth," I muttered, barely realizing the words had left my mouth until it was too late.
For a moment, there was silence, and then Lillian's grip on my hands loosened slightly. She shifted, her lips curving into a soft smile I could feel more than see. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"
I didn't know how to respond to that, so I focused on the plant, praying my flaming cheeks weren't too obvious.
After a moment, Lillian gently withdrew her hands, though her warmth still lingered. "There, you've done it perfectly. See? You're better at this than you give yourself credit for."
I risked a glance at her, and her smile was radiant, the kind that made it impossible to look away. She was close enough that I could see the delicate curve of her lips and the soft glow of her skin in the sunlight.
"Thanks," I muttered, looking away before I completely lost whatever composure I had left.
"My pleasure," she said, her tone light but carrying a hint of something deeper. Her smile lingered like a secret, her eyes sparkling in the sunlight. "And if you ever need another lesson, you know where to find me."
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, my knees betrayed me. Whether it was the exhaustion from crouching or the sheer effect of her words paired with that radiant smile, my strength gave out.
I stumbled backward, and in an instant, I felt the warmth of her arms wrapping around my waist, steadying me before I could fall completely. I leaned into her without thinking, the soft fabric of her uniform brushing against my back and her delicate scent of flowers and sunlight enveloping me.
"Careful," Lillian murmured, her voice low and concerned, but there was a softness to it that sent a shiver up my spine. "Are you okay?"
I tried to straighten up, but her hold remained firm yet gentle, her arms steadying me like an anchor. "Y-yeah, I'm fine," I stammered, though my heart was racing far too fast to back up that claim.
Lillian tilted her head, her pink hair falling like a shimmering curtain over her shoulder as she looked at me. Her face was impossibly close now, her lips just a breath away, and her green eyes studied me with a mixture of concern and amusement. "You don't seem fine," she teased, her voice dropping slightly, becoming almost intimate. "What's got you so flustered, Sera?"
"Flustered? I'm not flustered," I lied, the words tumbling out too quickly.
Her smile widened, and I felt her hand lightly brush against my side, steadying me even more. The touch was so fleeting yet electrifying that I nearly jumped. "Oh? So it's perfectly normal for someone to lose their balance during a gardening lesson?"
"I was crouching for too long!" I shot back, desperate to regain some semblance of control. "That's all it is!"
Lillian's laugh was soft and melodious, like a gentle breeze weaving through the garden. She leaned in just a little closer, and I was acutely aware of the way her breath lightly fanned against my cheek. "If you say so," she said, her tone playful yet laced with something undeniably alluring. "But you should let me know if you're feeling overwhelmed. I wouldn't want you to collapse on me again."
"I didn't collapse!" I protested, though the warmth in my cheeks betrayed me.
She simply chuckled, her hands lingering for a moment longer before finally releasing me, though the absence of her touch was almost as disorienting as her closeness had been. "You're full of surprises, Sera," she said, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face with a delicate motion. "I never know what to expect from you."
"Yeah, well, I don't need you worrying about me," I muttered, taking a half step back to put some space between us—space I desperately needed to clear my head.
"Too late for that," she replied with a mischievous smile, turning back toward the flowers. "But I'll let you get back to work before I distract you again."
Distract me? Oh, she was very aware of what she was doing.
As she walked away, her figure framed by the golden light filtering through the garden, I stood frozen for a moment, trying to catch my breath and calm the wild beating of my heart. Lillian was far too charming for her own good—or for mine.
Strangely, my heart was skipping more than one beat.