A Pair of Dandelions

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It was a refreshing day with the wind blowing through an open field. The sun gently warming Mikasa’s skin. She sat on the lush blades of grass with the skirt of her flowing sundress tucked underneath her.

Dandelions covered patches across rolling hills, dotting the sea of green like stars. Levi lay next to her, stirring awake from his nap. He caught the sight of her staring off into the distance—the light breeze combing through the raven locks of hair.

The serenity in her gaze, the dark hypnotic nature of her eyes alone took his breath away; it left him contemplating them long after he had looked into them. He sat up and plucked a baby dandelion by his side and reached over to place it in her hair.

Mikasa smiled softly without a word, and used her hand to guide the stem behind the brooch that held part of her hair back. Their fingers brushing against each other. Their eyes making contact.

“Dandelions are weeds,” he said, “Persistent little shits that pop up from everywhere. Cracks on sidewalks, in barren plots of land where nothing grows. They end up in flower pots on windowsills without permission, become unwanted in prized vegetable gardens. On tough soil, on loose soil, fertile soil, soil black, red, brown, yellow soil—they bloom everywhere. They are the first to show in spring and the last to die against the autumn chill…”

Mikasa quietly listened, her body slightly inclined towards Levi as he continued.

“They are the only flowers that bloom in the underground, surviving on only the filtered rays of light from above… And once they seeded themselves in one place, it becomes difficult to get rid of them. You have to pull the roots—just the surface won’t cut it. Because—,” he did an upward motion with his hand.

“They will pop right out again.”

Mikasa’s fingers fiddled with the little dandy in her hair. Levi looked out into the fields.

“They are weeds. Arrogant and defiant. Their leaves are jagged looking and lack refinement. I’ve seen so many that I grew sick of them…”

Levi fell silent for a moment.

“…but you know, looking at them out in the fields… they’re beautiful. And I realize, they’re flowers too. Because of their resilience, they survive. They also carry purpose; every part of them we use to make medicine.”

He turned to look at her, “You are a dandelion, Mikasa.”

Mikasa lightly chuckled and turned her head away; Levi reached, touching her chin so he can meet her eyes again.

“I couldn’t stand you. But you bore your roots into my heart and you wouldn’t leave. Your persistent nature—your defiance. Things that irritated me, became the things I couldn’t live without. You are a weed, but now I can only see you as a flower…”

Mikasa leaned forward and lightly kissed his lips. The warmth of her breath caressed his senses. Her eyes fluttered as she slowly pulled away. Levi watched her as she reached back to pull the dandy out of her hair.

She twisted the flower between her fingers, causing it to spin about. Their bodies huddled together, as the breeze blew every now and then. Mikasa in that moment, raised the flower and slipped it behind Levi’s left ear. Her fingertips glided down the side of his temple, his jaw. She opened her lips to whisper,

“You’re a dandelion too, you know…”


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