Chocolate

Soledad hasn’t missed the way Caro’s gaze lingers on the storefronts this season: the brightly colored reds and pinks of spring. Sol has lived in Callasta all their life — these things are commonplace to them. Flowers and their petals, hanging pink lanterns, hearts on everything… Soledad never cared particularly for the Mariël’s Festival, and every time the flowers began to bloom it faded from their mind. Barely registered.

Caro’s eyes follow the flutter of petals in the breeze. Sometimes, he takes a breath deeper than the others when they pass bakeries. Soledad watches him, so Soledad notices: while Caro isn’t the sort to talk about his feelings, especially the ones he considers extraneous or naive, it’s clear that there is something he wants. 

Perhaps it’s too soon to drag him into the festival itself. The parades, the spectacle… there’s half a chance Caro would tolerate it fine, but Sol lives their life painfully aware that Caro has lived on Postinen for less than a year. He has never been surrounded by as many cors as this. The throngs of parade-watchers would be a crowd of a magnitude he isn’t prepared for, and anyway Sol isn’t sure he knows how he feels about the holiday itself. He may yet conclude that it’s a stupid waste of time — and who could blame him?

But still: Sol cares for him, and Sol notices things, so one day on their way home they pass a chocolate store and stop by for a box. The look on Caro’s face when he receives it would be inscrutable to anyone else, but not to Soledad.

The chocolate is gone within the day.