maybe draw some more ruben from ur fic ?? :0
Guests leave some weird shit behind. He’s grown to enjoy the regular little gathering of staff calling dibs on worthwhile stuff, or laughing over ridiculous clothes or smutty paperbacks. This week, a potted plant in a hanging basket vined with deep, pointed emerald leaves and tiny white dots of flowers. Nobody else seemed interested: Ruben fell in love immediately, affixing it to swing from the curtain rail and religiously monitoring its status. He turns each individual leaf over in his fingers to check for dehydration or mold, and it fills him with a strange, sweet ache to see that it’s healthy and flourishing in his care.
my wee sad boy