Chapter Sixteen

"How do I look?" Creek asked, giving Branch a small whip of a turn to make his deep, royal purple cloak float gracefully around his legs. It was the first time he was going to wear it out in public and it was a little gaudy, to be fair. Satin and Chenille had worked hard on making him clothes that fit him perfectly and this event would be a good showcase for their more creative work.

Branch was sitting in his living room chair, arms folded over his bare chest, inspecting Creek with a raised brow. "A little flamboyant," he replied.

"That is the point, my dear." Creek twisted the long sleeves and straightened the fluffy collar hanging around his neck, humming in thought. He peeked over at the grey troll in his adjustments, taking in the rugged body Branch had on display. It was taunting and provoking him no matter how much he tried to ignore it.

He wasn't wearing a shirt for the first time, in front of Creek. Usually, Branch had a simple long sleeve garment or he donned his tattered vest whenever he ventured outside. Creek didn't know how many different kinds of clothes the troll owned but he was starting to prefer nothing at all. He'd never been so interested in Branch's body until now. Creek blamed the revelation of his secret feelings, the emotion bleeding into his physical cravings. Branch's arms looked surprisingly athletic and they bulked up around his pectorals while his arms were crossed. Scars and blemishes littered over his shoulders and down his torso. There was even a more prominent scar slashed over his stomach, which was also lean and muscled. The marks had stories and curiosity was murdering him. He wanted to know about them and how he got them. He wanted to touch them delicately, individually, for hours on end...

Creek shook the fog away cleared his throat and turned his back to Branch, pretending to fiddle with wrist of his cloak. His attractiveness wasn't just in his face, the grey troll had an entire package to unwrap and Creek's chest fluttered at the prospect.

"I don't know what to wear to these damn things," Branch said with a sigh, unfolding his arms and getting up from the chair. "Is there some kind of weird etiquette? Can I just wear what I normally wear? I'm going to look like a freak show next to you."

"No you won't," Creek chuckled. "I'll lend you something of mine."

Branch groaned while the troll went to his room to rummage through his drawers of clothes. He could only imagine what kind of apocalypse he was about to offer up. His sense of style was gaudy and bright, the complete opposite of what Branch would own. He wore clothes that would make him stand out in a crowd, as if his bright purple skin wasn't enough already. Soon enough, Creek returned holding up a thin, black cotton shirt with long sleeves and a gentle ruffle down the center of the chest.

"I think you'll make this look great," Creek said, handing him the shirt. Branch felt the material between his fingers then slipped his arms through the sleeves and pulled it over his head with a huff, shaking his black hair free and observing the look.

"I like that it's plain," Branch commented, picking at the neck ruffle. "Almost plain."

"You're far from plain," Creek said in admiration, watching the grey troll twist around in his shirt to test the flexibility.

It was the morning of Poppy's festival and vibrations of excited trolls rumbled through the bunker while they were making their way to a nearby meadow that was chosen to be the fairgrounds for the occasion. Every single troll in the village was going to be there, including Branch and Creek. From the way Poppy gushed about her plans to Creek the other day, it was her biggest design of the year and would become a regular tradition every year henceforth. The princess was incredibly excited knowing that Branch was going to attend and she had some secret gifts lined up for him. Creek felt awkward holding these secrets from him, but Poppy's wrath would be more painful if he ruined her surprise. He had no idea what she had in store and it concerned him. He hoped it wouldn't drive the grey troll back into his bunker halfway through festival.

"I have something for you too," Branch said quietly, sounding almost unsure of himself. The troll knit his brows together, reaching into his stalk of hair.

Creek tilted his head curiously, then paled out when he watched Branch reveal a sheathed dagger. The leather covering was black with small golden bolts lining the side, its handle equally beautiful with a hard grip. Branch inspected it momentarily, his frown deepening, then offered the blade to Creek with its handle outward.

"A weapon?" Creek asked worried, pulling back an inch from the unexpected gift. "But why, Branch?"

"In case of Bergens," he said tightly. "We always have to be ready. Keep it in your hair so that you'll have some protection."

Creek pained slightly and took the dagger, the weight of it heavier than he expected. He should have known something like this was going to come up. "Bergens," he said quietly, tracing the golden bullets with his finger. "We're supposed to be friends with them now."

"I don't care, Creek," Branch said heatedly. "Better safe than sorry and I want you to be safe. Just, please hold on to it. For my sanity, too."

Creek didn't want to fight him about this. When it came to the Bergens, there was no winning against the hard stance that Branch stood in. He wished for peace between the races as much as anyone else did in this world. Although he didn't agree with, or even wanted to have, a weapon like this in his possession, Creek understood that all Branch wanted was a little security. Swallowing down his disagreeing words, Creek nodded and slipped the weapon into his teal hair, storing it out of sight and out of mind. "I understand, love."

Branch bristled up at the pet name and huffed, having expected Creek to refuse his offering, "Good, then." He turned away from the purple troll and headed towards the elevator lift that traveled to the floor above. "Come on, the day won't end any faster if we don't get on with it."

- - - - -

"Come one, come all, to the greatest show on Earth!"

"Psst, Suki, it's a festival, not one of your shows."

"Oh, right. Right! Come one and all to the greatest festival on Earth!"

The booming voice of DJ Suki and Guy Diamond echoed through giant megaphones attached to wired poles surrounding the insanely large, dome-like structure that was Poppy's Fall themed festival. Trolls from all over the village were filing out of the nooks and crannies of the great Troll Tree, swinging down from their pods and making their way to the entrance of the stadium that was comparable to a high-end sports amphitheater with an open roof. The building was only half a mile from the village, nestled in its own area near the Cliffs of Laurel. The wide space was covered with sloping grasslands, cleared of forest trees and other shrubs that would block the incredible view of the plateau, hanging over a seven hundred foot drop that led straight down into the icy blue waters of the Serenity lake.The touristy location was a fan-favorite for watching the sunset with your loved one, and it alsomade the best post card photos.

The arena was already jam packed with celebration; glitter bombs shoot through the sky in bursts of yellow and silver alongside the cracking of fireworks. The horseshoe entrance was decorated in Fall emblems, streaming with ribbons, banners and glitter spotted flowers with leafy accents. Everything was color coordinated and perfectly blending with auburn hues.

Creek and Branch stood together towards the middle of the line to get in, both of them frowning for different reasons.

"This is not what I signed up for," Branch said gravely, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"How did Poppy make something so huge in such a short amount of time?!" Creek exclaimed, holding his forehead while his mouth was agape. "This is utterly insane."

Branch grimaced and his pointed ears drooped. "You don't suppose it's too late to head back to the bunker?"

Creek sighed and rested his hands on his hips, shaking his head. "We're already here, we might as well do the best we can, for Poppy's sake."

From that statement, Branch gathered that Creek was just as apprehensive about this event as he was. Damn it all, he knew it! This was a horrible idea and he should have trusted his gut instinct. Instead of trying to do something fun with Creek, he ended up driving them both into a mess neither one of them wanted to be a part of. Branch fumed at his blundering and rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his weight from foot to foot in annoyance while they stood there among a hundred chaotic, chattering trolls. He was already feeling like an outcast because trolls around who saw Branch in the crowd were slowly stepping away like they wanted to avoid catching his grey. Creek didn't seem to have noticed that they were in a pocket of free space, comparable to the rest of the line.

"The line is moving fairly quickly, at least," Creek said.

"Wonderful," Branch grumped sarcastically, shooting a hot glare to a random green troll that was staring in his direction. The troll jumped in surprise and scooted farther away from him.

"You'll never make friends that way," the purple troll said, keeping his watch on the line in front of them. Creek's sense of awareness was sometimes irritating for Branch. He knew what was happening even if no one else did.

"I don't want to make friends," he spat angrily.

"Life is more fulfilling when you have someone to share it with," Creek said lightly.

"You're enough," Branch said, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep himself from getting any violent ideas. "And don't get cocky about it," he added.

Creek smiled a bit, his ego elevating to dangerous levels. "Too late for that," he sad. "I will remember what you said."

Branch rolled his eyes and huffed, wishing that he hadn't opened his big mouth, "I don't doubt it."

Between the casual bickering and off topic conversations, the line into the festival moved at a lightning quick pace. They came to the entry way, manned by a handful of trolls who were passing out cupcakes, balloons, party hats, and more. Cooper was the closest to them and gave them a wave with his front leg. Branch inwardly groaned, a permanent scowl plastered to his face. If he was going to have to meet with every single one of Poppy's friends he might actually lose his mind today. It was going to be impossible to avoid anyone inside that mayhem.

"Branch and Creek. Branch and Creek!" the giraffe-like troll laughed enthusiastically and galloped in their direction. Branch darted quickly out of his reach, but Creek was caught full force and Cooper crushed him in the mightiest of hugs.

"Yes! Very good, Cooper!" Creek gasped, tapping him on the neck.

"Oh, sorry," Cooper grinned, letting the purple troll go. "Poppy gave me very specific instructions for when ya'll came to the party."

"And what are those?" Branch said grumpily.

"What are those, what," Cooper asked, confused.

"What. Are. The. Instructions." the grey troll seethed, becoming more aggravated with every passing second. He couldn't stand this airhead of a troll, despite him being one of Poppy's Snack Pack friends. Creek was alright, obviously. Biggie was tolerable, if you could look past his obsession with the yellow worm. Guy Diamond was growing on him. Everyone else he had no intention of getting to know any time soon, the pink dimwit included. Was he even a troll, really?

"Not that it really matters," Creek said quickly, interjecting between the two. "Here are our tickets! We must be on our way." He presented the deep red slips for Cooper to take, and the troll's eyes lit up when he saw them.

"Oh yeah! Poppy said, 'take their tickets and let them in'," he repeated her words matter-of-factually.

"Perfect!" Creek said weakly, "So we're going in now. Thank you, Cooper."

"You're welcome, Creek! Have fun," Cooper laughed, stepping to the side and out of their path.

Creek took Branch's hand and they hurried through the entryway before anything else could be said, escaping what looked like a possible meltdown on Branch's part. The purple troll could feel the trembles coming from the other's hand and he squeezed it reassuringly.

The interior was breathtaking. The stadium was filled to the brim with roller coasters, carousel rides, stage entertainers, street performers, and anything else you can think of that a rowdy troll would want to do in a place like this. There were shouts and screaming, laughter, and singing all clumped together in a single, constant sound. With excited trolls pushing at their backs, Creek and Branch were jostled into moving further into the pandemonium. Fresh fireworks were shot nearby, exploding in the air and making Branch flinch bodily. Creek pulled him off to the side, away from the fireworks stand, while looking for a safe place to gather their bearings.

"Can you see just a stitch of light, come in through a crack in the blinds?"

Branch's ears picked up on the melody that pitched higher than the rest of the noise. The music was sweet and harmonic, coming from a nearby stage with a very familiar, pink troll standing at its center. She held her microphone with her elbow up, wearing a velvety red dress and matching tiara accented with golden glitter.

"'Cause we're only getting so much time... oh. So let's live like we'll never die, oh!"

Poppy looked stunning as a princess should and she smiled at all of her friends who were jumping up and down at the pit of the stage, waving their hands in the air.

"Let it all go, slowly we fade, reality falls away!" she sang passionately, dancing across the stage and twirling in her dress. "We're losing our minds, we can't stop. Oh, if we don't breathe, we'll never see, life is a masterpiece. We're losing our minds, we can't stop!"

Creek stopped and looked over at the stage as well, beaming at the troll princess. "She's an amazing singer," he said lovingly.

"Yeah, she really is." Branch agreed. Poppy was one of the best singers in the village, and despite all of the times he'd refuse to stick around long enough to listen to her, his heart was weak to her voice in the right moments. He fought her, avoided her, and berated her on a daily basis, but she never gave up on him. She never left him alone in all of the years of his attempted solitude and he was grateful. She was stronger than he was emotionally, mentally, and probably even physically, but he would always lend his support if she really needed it. Poppy was the future queen for a reason.

"Walking streets in the neon light, all the colors will be our guide. 'Cause we're only given so much time, oh… So let's live like we'll never die, oh!"

As the two trolls watched her performance, Poppy noticed Branch in the background of her fans and gave him an energetic wave from the stage. Now it seemed like she was singing for him alone and it made Branch blush horribly. She always had to take it too far, didn't she? Branch bit his lower lip and looked over at Creek who was still completely enthralled with the song. The other trolls cheered and danced with her, singing along to lyrics.

"Let it all go, slowly we fade, reality falls away! We're losing our minds, we can't stop. If we don't breathe, we'll never see life is a masterpiece… We're losing our minds, we can't stop!"

Branch snagged Creek's long sleeve and tugged on it, turning away from the stage. "Can we move on?" he said, his cheeks hot.

"Of course," he said, giving a big farewell wave to Poppy then leaving with Branch to go exploring. They moved slowly through the festival, spending some time looking at each fast-paced ride before moving on to the next one. Branch refused every single option that Creek offered, cutting the purple troll off and leaving him whenever he suggested they get on a ride that looked too much to handle. To be honest, Branch was scared of this whole place. The loud screaming and grinding of the roller coasters with arms and legs flailing about, all while trolls were rocketed through the air at dangerous levels; it was just too much.

"No, not this one either," Branch said, feeling a little queasy. He retreated again, but Creek grabbed his arm to stop him from running away.

"Come on, Branch. Wait a moment," he pleaded. "One more try, okay? Give me a chance to find something suitable for us."

"One more," he agreed quietly. He had to try, if Creek really wanted it. He wished there was something easier to do that wasn't going to turn his body inside out. Normal troll 'fun' wasn't normal, in his mind. People could really get hurt if they weren't careful, which they never were. He couldn't do anything about it right now and it put him on edge. If he made any kind of commotion that caused the shutdown of Poppy's festival, he would never hear the end of it from her or any one of her friends. His life as an outcast wasn't good, but it could definitely be more miserable if he tried to oppress the village with his safety standards.

Branch followed with his eyes downcast, trying to quell the swirl in his stomach. A rogue troll ran past and bumped into his shoulder and he ruffled up, trotting closer to the purple troll's back so he could use Creek as a body shield.

"YOU THERE, WITH THE STYLISH BLACK SHIRT! COME OVER HERE!"

Branch grimaced at the deep, baritone voice shouting at him randomly. They spotted Smidge across the way, who was dressed up like a tiny conductor, bouncing up and down to get his attention. She had a flat top hat and a button up vest, waving a neckerchief in their direction while standing on top of a wooden terminal. It was sitting along side a lengthy paneled walkway parallel to an impressive stretch of water, leading outside through an opening in the arena wall.

"Always a pleasure, my dear," Creek greeted her as they walked up to the platform, then he looked over the side of the walkway at the flowing water. It resembled a thin river with air blown barriers on each side to keep the water in. Anchored at the starting line were multiple, two-troll pedal boats, each painted a different color of the rainbow.

"You guys are in for a treat," Smidge said proudly, jumping off her podium and pointing at the first pedal boat. "Be the first to try our most impressive, most enjoyable, mysterious and awesome river ride!"

"Is it easy going?" Creek questioned, smiling at her enthusiasm.

"It's the easiest of goings," she nodded. "Built for two." Smidge looked over at Branch and winked at him, making him frown in suspicion.

Creek jumped into the first boat, the water sloshing and rocking the craft. Branch flinched and looked over the edge, biting his lip and twisting his hands together. "No, no. This doesn't look safe," he said nervously. "We should skip it. Get out Creek."

Creek shook his head and put his foot up on the seat, reaching up towards the grey troll. "Nonsense, Branch. It is perfectly fine, I promise. You said you'd give me a chance."

He made an averse face and eyeballed the contraption, unconvinced. "How can you trust it?"

"I trust that I can protect you no matter where we are," Creek replied gently, urging him to take his hand. "Just like how you will protect me, right?" He knew what he was implying, given their earlier conversation in the bunker. He appreciated, yet hated Creek for using it to his own gain.

Branch decided to take the risk and took a breath in, "Alright, damn it!" he said with grit teeth, grabbing the purple troll's hand and leaping into the boat with him. It bounced heavily in the water from the added weight and Branch clung to Creek's forearms to regain his balance. They settled down into the plush seat cushion and Creek signaled the go-ahead to Smidge at the control station.

"Please stay seated through the entire adventure and keep all hair, hands, legs, and any other appendages inside the boat at all times! But we can't really stop you if you don't want to," Smidge giggled, yanking down the large wooden lever that lurched the paddle boat forward, releasing it freely into the troll-made river. "Bon voyage!" she waved to them.

Branch gripped the side of the boat with his right hand and his knee with his left, absolutely terrified that they would both come out of this joy ride irreversibly injured. Creek placed his feet on the pedals of the boat underneath the dash and gave them a gentle turn, moving the vehicle forward down the lane of water.

The river took the boat in a gentle slope, passing outside the walls of the festival arena and traveling against the outskirts of the grassland. It was just the two of them in the boat, the sounds of music and laughter drowned out by the thick walls of the stadium and carried away by the breeze. They could see an admiral view of the cliffs, the sun blazing midway in the sky. Branch looked out to the lake water that seemed so far away, but glittering against the sunlight. The incredible view and the quiet ambiance eased his anxiety and his grip loosened on the paddle boat while they floated slowly down the lane; until he saw that the river was leading into a dark, hillside tunnel with no meaningful alterations or context. It was layered in gold and red crafted leaves, arranged in a large arch around the mouth of the tunnel. The two trolls had no clue what lay beyond the passage.

"What in the world..." Branch grumbled, his pointed ears flattening.

Creek made a questionable hum, evaluating. "It can't be that horrible" he said. "Only one way to find out, though."

"You're not giving me much confidence." Branch groaned in discomfort while Creek paddled them forward, drifting closer and closer to the tunnel and then passing through blackened entrance. The darkness eerily loomed as the only source of light started to fade out behind them. They couldn't see more than a couple feet ahead and Branch started to shiver, looking around himself.

"I've changed my mind," he said frantically. "Let's not do this!"

Creek gripped Branch's shoulder was about to try and calm him down, when suddenly the ceiling of the tunnel began to speckle with orange and yellow lights. Both of them looked upwards with a gasp, the lights multiplying at an alarming rate and cascading down the walls of the tunnel like waterfalls of glitter. Glowing butterflies, ranging from fiery reds to sweetened yellows, were clinging to the ceiling and fluttering around them, their luminescent wings flickering like tiny, beautiful flames. A few critters floated down to meet the trolls, landing in their hair and on the tip of the boat. Branch held a butterfly in his hand, eyes wide with wonder, then he smiled, letting the bug drift away with the rest of the swarm that danced over their heads.

"Wow. They're so beautiful." Branch said, fascinated while they drifted through the glittering flames. "I have a love for bugs like this."

Creek was watching Branch, not the butterflies. "Yeah," he said fondly, gazing over the glow in Branch's happy face. "Beautiful." He was beautiful, more so than the rare creatures that floated through the mysterious tunnel. The word couldn't do him justice. The critters surrounded Branch, nestling into his black hair and landing on his nose, resting on his shoulders and arms. They could tell that he was a good, gentle troll at heart. Critters were known to be able to sense the inner aura of other creatures. It was so they could determine if they were safe to be around, and in situations like this… being covered and loved by such small, delicate creatures, it was like a recognition of your virtue.

Branch glanced back to the purple troll and Creek startled himself out of his staring, resuming his slow paddling. He pursed his lips and averted his eyes, feeling a heat creep up his neck. Creek pointed ahead of them, "We are almost through now."

The butterflies drifted back up, landing on the ceiling and folding their wings together. The last one touched Branch's cheek briefly, as if giving him a kiss, then rejoined the others for the next duo of trolls to enter their domain. The pedal boat sailed through to the end of the enclosure and they shielded their eyes to the brightness, emerging at the opposite side gate of the festival. They were greeted with the full blast of music and merriment, a regrettable change to what they just experienced.

Smidge was there, as she somehow beat them to the end of the path, to greet them while the boat came to a halt. "Thank you for choosing our all new, patent-pending, Butterfly Wonderland ride! Please come again next year," she said happily.

Branch clambered onto the water walk first, sighing deeply with contentment."That's probably the best thing they've got in place." He grabbed Creek's hand and helped pull him out of the boat. "Do you think Poppy set that up specifically with us in mind?"

"One can only wonder," Creek replied. The purple troll dusted down his purple cloak and patted down a stray stand of hair, then hooked his hand around Branch's upper arm and tugged him along. "Let's look for something equally delightful!" he exclaimed.

Branch let himself be carted around by Creek's enthusiasm, diving into the crowd of trolls once again. They were dancing, singing, pairs were holding hands and sharing sweet desserts and other street foods. The sea of colored hair was like a ripping rainbow on the stadium floor. The grey troll dipped and dodged around while clinging to the sleeve of Creek's robe as he rushed ahead, hoping that they didn't get separated in this mess. The last thing he wanted to do was lose his purpose for even coming here. They made their way out of the dancing pocket and into the food vendors, each side of the cobblestone path stuffed with booths serving pastries, snacks, cotton candy, and the like. The canopy above was a web of yellow and orange lanterns hanging from building to building. The whole area was vividly bright and the air was rich with all the savory smells of cooking festival fare. There were just as many trolls here, wandering back and forth by each booth, but the mood felt a little more low key.

"Would you like to eat something?" Creek asked, turning back to Branch.

He was still gripping Creek's sleeve tightly, ears and eyes flicking around in high alert while he tried to watch everything that was going on around them. "Uh.. food. Yes," he said, moving a step closer to Creek's back in an attempt to avoid being crashed into by a havoc couple. "Something simple."

Creek guided him to the side of the road, setting him down on an empty bench nestled between the corn dogs and the funnel cakes. "Wait right here," he said with a smile.

Branch was about to protest but Creek slipped back into the crowd and was lost before any words were said. Uneasiness filled his stomach and he cast his eyes downward, hands fidgeting in his lap. Minutes felt like hours and the scenery around him was a colorful blur while trolls big and small walked past him every which-way. The music wasn't discernible either, just loud and overbearing and he felt an oncoming ache in his head.

"Well, hello there Branch! What a surprise!" The troll looked up from his despair to find Biggie and Mr. Dinkles standing in front of him, holding multiple sticks and colors of cotton candy balls. The yellow worm meeped in approval and Biggie laughed, "I know, I was just thinking the same thing. I haven't seen him attend any parties like this in years."

"Er, yeah…" Branch said.

"Here, have one of our cotton candies! They're super delicious," Biggie said, picking out a stick from his arms and offering a bright orange cotton candy to the smaller troll. Branch accepted it out of politeness and realized it was almost larger than his entire head. It smelled like straight sugar and artificial orange flavor.

He looked around the cotton ball and smiled weakly, "Thanks, I'm sure Creek will enjoy it."

"OH, Creek is here with you! That's excellent! That lovable little yoga master," Biggie laughed. "Here – have another one for him," the large, blue troll pressed another yellow cotton candy stick into Branch's other hand.

"Wait, Biggie, this isn't really –"

"You two have fun, the games will be starting soon. Don't be late!" Biggie gave Branch a wink and left him there, chattering to his worm then exclaiming at the next group of trolls he came across.

That was the second time a troll had winked at him and the stink of skepticism was strong. Branch stared at the giant cotton in his hands then set them aside on the free end of the bench. He was probably just imagining things… Branch rubbed his temple and sighed, already feeling tired and worn out. Creek returned not much later with baked zucchini chips and a few drinks of lemonade.

"Something edible? That's rare," he said sarcastically, scooting over in the seat so Creek could sit next to him.

"Neither one of us is a fan of the typical troll diet," the purple troll explained, passing him a paper bowl filled with the green chips. "Milton was at one of the booths and was very accommodating. I've been told he's a vegetarian."

"Makes sense," Branch said. "It's probably because of all those critters he owns."

Creek agreed with a hum and munched on his food, then glanced over at the cotton candy resting by Branch's side.

"Biggie," the grey troll said dimly, taking a sip of his drink. The icy lemon drink was refreshing and it washed down a lot of his irritable feelings.

"Say no more," Creek chuckled. He popped another zucchini slice in his mouth, looking absolutely charmed. "These are great! The seasoning is spot on."

Branch watched his friend from the corner of his eye while they talked. Their topics were pointless and random, but the flicker in his stomach made itself known. He enjoyed this simplicity with Creek. Hanging out with him and sharing their day together gave him so much more than he thought he wanted.

Every word that Creek said opened up the purple troll's world, letting Branch see more and more of what he was really like. His personality, his likes and dislikes, and the way that he smiled at simple things, filled in the gaps of Branch's memories. He knew Creek from when they were just trollings, growing up together until they were six years old, but now he was beginning to know him as an adult. The two versions were one in the same and he could see the deep similarities, but the troll in front of him now was constrained. It was almost like he was hiding a secret truth underneath the blanket of his outward self. Branch remembered him being outgoing and loud, approachable, and easily anyone's friend. Now… he realized that Creek was quiet, distant and withdrawn from the troll society, almost in the same sense that Branch was. He expressed his displeasure in front of Branch, but pretended to be joyful for others. He was confused on whether or not he should feel privileged for seeing this side of the purple troll.

"Are you doing alright?" Creek asked him softly, watching the lanterns sway together in a brisk gust of wind.

Branch realized he'd stopped talking, only watching him with his hand halfway to his mouth. He dropped his chip quickly and broke his eyes away, "I'm okay," he said. "You?"

Creek smiled and leaned on the bench, draping his arm over the back of the seat behind Branch. He scooted closer to the grey troll and smirked wider as Branch became squirmy, "I'm doing great," he replied coolly.

"That's good," Branch breathed, his body stiffening up like a plank of wood while Creek closed in on his meager amount of space. He was incredibly close, their thighs barely brushing together.

"You know," the purple troll said thoughtfully, "coming here together; this is almost like a date."

"You wish I would date you," Branch said jokingly, his nerves paralyzing while the word repeated over and over, deafening in his ears. Date. Date. Date. His heart rate increased and he swallowed some of his tension.

"I do wish."

"W-Whuh –... what?" Branch mumbled. Did he hear that correctly?

Creek brought his hand up and touched Branch's cheek, his thumb caressing just under his widened eye. "I have been… thinking a lot," Creek said, his voice lowered but just loud enough to be heard over the festival around them.

Branch didn't pull away. He let the purple troll touch his face, petting his grey skin ever so softly while he felt himself be infiltrated by those eyes. Those eyes. Branch was being sucked into those lilac dreams again, the fields of tulips and lavender alluring him to the point of no return. Tell me everything you're thinking about, his mind craved. Goosebumps coated his arms and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, Creek's touch electrifying him.

"Being with you," Creek continued, his light expression starting to cast shadow while he contemplated his choice of words. "Branch, I…" He held his breath, searching Creek's face for an answer. Then the troll lowered his hand from Branch's cheek, hesitating in the end. "I really enjoy doing these things with you. We should come again next time."

Disappointment flooded Branch's heart, drowning out the erratic beats in a sea of rejection, but he cracked a forced smile and turned his face away. "Yeah, sounds good." He brought his hand to the painful burn in his chest, trying to rub it away. He didn't know what he expected out of Creek. He didn't understand why he was so upset now.

A loud trumpeting resounded across the festival and all the trolls squealed in delight at the sound of DJ Suki's voice booming in the arena.

"It's time for a little game play, ya'll!" she yelled through the speakers. "Head on over to the south lot and let's have some fun! T-MINUS TEN MINUTES!"

"Let's go with them," Creek said hurriedly, getting up from the bench.

"I'm really not interested in troll games," Branch said, grimacing when Creek took his hand and forced him to his feet. He tore his hand away quickly, causing the purple troll to question the movement with a raised brow.

"Poppy's told me she has a surprise for you during the festival games, so we have to go meet her," he said.

"Whatever," Branch grunted. "Just what I need right now. Lead the way," he gestured for Creek to hurry along. The purple troll looked at him worriedly but decided it would be best not to question his mood. So much for Creek being aware of his surroundings, Branch thought bitterly.