Brown leaves swirled on the glass ceiling, the dusking sun continually casting them in darker hues. Prancing on tiptoe, the leaves came to life, fashioning an elegant dance over an intimate audience beneath the glass. Careless, the leaves slipped over the sides and lighted on the ground just beyond the windows. Here, they lay patiently, waiting to someday fertilize the wildflowers which might spring from the nurturing soil. The whole process was beautiful—nature dancing to its own, perfect chaconne, audible only to itself.
Max watched the leaves on the ceiling flail about.
“If fairies didn't exist after all, I would cry,” said Cyan simply. And she took a shot.
He cast his gaze to the ground outside and stared at the leaves lying dead on jagged rock.
“Max! You aren't drinking?” asked Cyan.
“I don't think there are fairies,” said Max. He shrugged. Andrew handed a paper towel to Cyan, who hadn't yet realized she'd knocked over her other glass. The puddle glistened dimly under the warm, yellow lamps.
“Even Andrew drank on that one, though. He doesn't believe in anything.” She said this prodding Andrew, who snorted in spite of himself. But Max saw the way Cyan's shoulders fell anyway—the way she looked down to her spilled drink. He suddenly felt bad about it.
“Want me to pour you another?” asked Max as he stood. The lamps hung low over his head and distempered the room with soft shadows. He moved to brush a friendly leaf from his shoulder, but accidentally batted it away.
“Guys, come on. I think it's time to hit the hay,” Andrew said once again. “When Cyan starts drinking on questions she asked, it's time to ca—” But Cyan interrupted him.
“Hey! Be careful with the sorghum! We're trying to do real science here—with a process and everything. It's cool, right? We're in a greenhouse; it's fun!” Her eyes narrowed. “You're not allowed to think this isn't fun.” Her mouth wavered against a smile.
“Sorry, Cyan, but the sorghum threw the first punch,” said Max. He crossed to the table to mix her a drink and asked, “Did you know that I've never lost a fight?” He was trying to stay in character but didn't feel himself.