Blackhearted

A Ghrá, A Rúnsearc

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Pitch had debated about using the moss rose for his confession. Sean had done the same, after all, and Pitch didn't wish to be some pale imitation of Grim's former love. He certainly didn't wish to replace the gancanagh, but he was wary of whether his actions would be perceived as having that intent.

He did use it in the end, handing Grim the delicate pink bloom moments before drawing out a ring box. She didn't seem to take issue with either, fortunately. He'd actually seen the flower sitting in a vase while visiting her apartment for coffee. Neither of them had acknowledged it in words. However, Pitch was fairly sure Grim had caught him glancing over at it, though his only evidence towards such a conclusion was her maddening smirk.

Grim had interests many and varied, but her fixation on the meanings of flowers was a fairly recent one, seeded after she'd discovered that Sean was fascinated by the methods one could use to send messages through botany. Because of this, Pitch had been unwillingly subjected to several lessons on the art of Victorian flower meanings. Despite his involuntary participation, he had ended up learning a thing or two. Carnations, for instance, could have several meanings depending on the type: white ones stood for sweetness, red for heartbreak, striped for refusal, yellow for disdain.

Therefore when the Boogeyman approached the new entrance to his lair to find it surrounded by newly planted yellow carnations, he had a fairly confident guess as to who was responsible.

"Hello, little leech," he remarked boredly.

"Hello, Hobgoblin King. Run out of toddlers to scare in their cribs?"

He resisted the urge to sigh as Melinoe poked her head out from the mouth of the cave. "Don't you have anything better to do than pester me, bloodsucker?"

"Nope!" she chirped. "Heard you got hitched. Decided to settle down now that you've so little to do, hm?"

Pitch snorted as he swept by her, beginning his descent into his underground quarters. "Perhaps you should consider it. I'm sure you can railroad some poor soul down the aisle."

Melinoe shrugged, trailing after him. "Honestly I'm not sure which I'm more surprised at."

The Nightmare King turned to glare at the black-clad woman smiling in his shadow "Which of what, exactly?"

"The fact that she accepted you, or the fact that you actually gave time for Seany boy to grow cold in his grave before snapping her up."

Melinoe blinked, and Pitch was gone. She frowned and looked around. "Black?"

A hand grabbed her wrist, and Melinoe found herself slammed to the wall. White lights flared in her vision as her head hit the rock of the cavern with a crack.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shake away the pain. When she opened her eyes again her vision was filled with a silver glare.

"Don't," Pitch growled, each syllable heavy with venom. "Don't you dare insinuate-"

Melinoe grit her teeth as his grip around her wrist tightened, hiding her pain as she looked up into his face and laughed. "Insinuate what? That you jumped at the chance to shove a ring on her finger once she was available? Sorry that the truth strikes such a nerve."

He snarled, baring his crooked gray teeth as if he were about to bite. "Do you think this is a game, to trifle with me?"

Growl back or he'll walk all over you.

Melinoe rolled her eyes and smirked derisively. "Please. I'm just as much of a monster as you are now. What can you do to me? Hide under my bed, pop out and say 'boo?'"