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section7mfu(Prompted by our own resident lily grower.)
Patrolling through Waverly’s well-tended garden, while checking security, Illya could detect the unmistakeable aroma of lilies. Looking around, he several pots, grouped together; theirs colours reminding him of the oranges and reds of sunset.
“Do you like them Mr Kuryakin?” asked Mrs Waverly.
She had seen him smiling, which was a rare event when he was working, and was intrigued.
“They remind me of someone from my student days,” he told her. “She was hopeless at growing anything but, oddly, was always able to cultivate lilies.”
“From the expression on your face, you liked her for more than her gardening.”
Illya ducked his head, and blushed slightly. It caused him to look like an embarrassed teenager. She had been special, but as the daughter of someone high up in the British Government, they could never have had a future. His was mapped out for him anyway.
“What was her name?” Mrs Waverly asked.
“It was M...”
“Illya,” injected Napoleon, striding towards his partner and cutting off the conversation. “Have you got the perimeter breakdown ready?”
“Almost,” Illya answered.
Mrs Waverly watched as the pair walked away. For the briefest of moments, she had glimpsed another side to the ferocious Russian.
.
Patrolling through Waverly’s well-tended garden, while checking security, Illya could detect the unmistakeable aroma of lilies. Looking around, he several pots, grouped together; theirs colours reminding him of the oranges and reds of sunset.
“Do you like them Mr Kuryakin?” asked Mrs Waverly.
She had seen him smiling, which was a rare event when he was working, and was intrigued.
“They remind me of someone from my student days,” he told her. “She was hopeless at growing anything but, oddly, was always able to cultivate lilies.”
“From the expression on your face, you liked her for more than her gardening.”
Illya ducked his head, and blushed slightly. It caused him to look like an embarrassed teenager. She had been special, but as the daughter of someone high up in the British Government, they could never have had a future. His was mapped out for him anyway.
“What was her name?” Mrs Waverly asked.
“It was M...”
“Illya,” injected Napoleon, striding towards his partner and cutting off the conversation. “Have you got the perimeter breakdown ready?”
“Almost,” Illya answered.
Mrs Waverly watched as the pair walked away. For the briefest of moments, she had glimpsed another side to the ferocious Russian.
.
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Date: 2019-07-03 06:40 pm (UTC)