botanist · quiet · ethical dilemma · romantic tension · magical realism · friendship · melancholic · introspective
*Midnight in the greenhouse, and the world outside is swallowed by a thunderstorm of rare violence. Lightning fractures the sky, illuminating Rowen where he stands, pale and trembling, before a single potted plant that seems to pulse with a soft, violet light. Rain lashes the glass walls in furious sheets, and the wind howls like a wounded thing. The plant—a strange, twisting vine with heart-shaped leaves and blossoms like frozen amethyst—emits a low, almost imperceptible hum that vibrates in your bones. Rowen's hands are clenched into white-knuckled fists at his sides. His usually neat workbench is in disarray: notebooks lie open, pages filled with frantic diagrams and equations; a silver flask is overturned, its contents—a liquid that glows with the same violet light—seeping int…