(Woman to flower (Chrysanthemum))

Before the white chrysanthemum

The scissors hesitate

A moment

-Yosa Buson, tl. Robert Hass

Khanh paused, his shears just a scant quarter of an inch from trimming a flower from the plant before him. Rather, he froze just short of trimming his wife. Harriet had Venned into a plant for time being, a part of their living arrangement.

The pair of lovers were struggling Venn artists, each trying to get by on commissioned pieces. However, not everyone had need of her sculpting gifts, just as not everyone had need of his floral forms. Naturally, two people living one person's salary was hardly ideal, so the pair had decided to rotate off between work.

When Khanh had offers to change people into plants, he'd change Harriet into one as well, taking her with him on business trips. Likewise, Harriet would do the same to him, making him anything from a desk ornament to a statue fit for a gorgeous yard.

Of course, their weekends were spent together, each of the pair exploring just how creative the other could be with a Venn machine. However, the weekend was still three days away, and so that left Khanh caring for his potted wife.

It wasn't that he minded—he loved watering her; putting her pot in the warm sun; reading aloud to her. However, he couldn't quite bring himself to trim her. This was the first time he'd ever considered doing such a thing, making her a bouquet of her own flowers. It had seemed such a romantic idea, but now... He wasn't sure if Harriet would take well to it.

Meanwhile, Harriet was seething in her pot, willing herself to stretch her flower out into the scissors' waiting blades. Did Khanh know he was being such a tease?

She'd wanted to ask him to trim her for months now, but could never quite muster the words. There was something so adorable about the look in his eye whenever she asked him to do something that he thought would hurt her, a look that was now spread on his features.

Harriet sighed inwardly. She loved that he was so concerned for her safety, but she was a plant now! He'd already gotten used to treating her as one in every other sense of the word; why couldn't he get used to this now!

The chrysanthemum huffed to herself, her white petals glinting enticingly in the blades' reflections. On the bright side, Khanh had at least come to placing her in direct sunlight, no longer worrying about following plant care to the letter.

She let herself sink back into the sun's waiting arms, her verdant leaves soaking in nutrition, energy, and pleasure alike from the beams. It might be a while before he came to a decision...

Khanh bit his lower lip nervously, staring down at Harriet's leafy form. Could he really go through with this? Granted, she loved being treated just like any other plant, but this was... Well, it was a little much! Plus he hadn't asked her, so he didn't know if he was crossing a line.

The dark-haired man steeled himself, closing his eyes and centering himself. Harriet had never complained before, and she had shown an abnormal amount of glee in making him into a block she could carve herself. And that experience was pleasurable to him, so logically...

The scissors met with an audible snick, quick as a kiss and firm as a lover's passionate embrace.

Bliss filled Harriet's mind, an incredible rush of sensation from the parting of one of her flowers. The flare of steel's bite against her body was for but a second, leaving her with an rapturous sense of detachment.

She could still almost feel where the flower had been, picking up the coolness of sap trickling over her wound, sealing it shut. The woman-turned-plant couldn't feel the flower itself, but she could see her husband sniffing it jokingly, a nervous smile on his face.

Oh, if only she could tell him what a wondrous job he was doing! She was really being treated just like a plant; trimmed like any other flower! Harriet inwardly quaked with joyous exultation, watching Khanh pull out a vase to drop the flower in.

But... The ornate green urn was so large, her one flower barely filled it. Hope and anticipation filled Harriet as Khanh turned back to her, once again unclasping his beg of shears. More, more! She willed mentally, giddy as the day he'd proposed. Little did she know that she wasn't the only one going back to that time.

Khanh was as nervous as the day he'd mustered the courage to drop to a knee and give Harriet a ring. Common sense told him that she would love it, but there was that ever-present pessimism of humanity warning him to stay his hand.

However, he was able to override his overactive conscience, already focusing on another stem to clip. He'd already trimmed one flower, and his bouquet would seem so devoid with but a single bulb.

Khanh knelt down by Harriet, his fingers trailing along her leaves even as they found another ripe stem. The Venn artist played his digits along it, brushing a thumb teasingly along Harriet's immobile body even as his palm turned, clearing ample room for his trimmers.

He opened the pair of blades wide, placing them ever so gently against the stem and clipping slowly.

Harriet would have moaned if she could. Instead, she could only sit in quiet pleasure, basking in the sensations of being trimmed. The first time, the cut was too quick for her to truly see it for what it was. But now that Khanh was being so damnably slow, she could feel the trimming throughout her form.

It was a sharp and bright sensation, not dissimilar from being cut. However, instead of pain, there was only a warm and flowing bliss that was ravishing her mind. It was like her new body had a set of instincts that strove for this natural order; desired it. She loved every bit of it, falling into a warm ocean of pleasure and riding the waves of desire.

Better yet, he didn't stop at just two. Khanh kept clipping away, humming a happy tune that washed past her leaves, seeming to settle deep within her stems and resonate with them. Harriet could almost feel her roots curling in delight, living in her own private world of pleasure.

Finally, she ran out of flowers, and could only mentally gasp for breath as Khanh arranged her trimmed flowers into a gorgeous bouquet before her. It was beautiful, and better yet was a reminder of the plant that she'd become.

The two lovers looked at Khan's creation, loving it just as much as they loved each other. Khanh cupped one of Harriet's leaves in his fingers and she melted in his hand. The two of them looked at this latest creation of their passions, content to be alone together.