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Hector returned to Violet and the Pomegranate House a few times over the following weeks. Patty and Vibiano came with him the first time, and Ban the next, but it wasn't long before Hector became comfortable visiting Violet on his own. The artist always appreciated the company, and the house itself, after the stressful discovery of it being alive, seemed to be getting used to him, too.
"We sold a lot of tickets last week!" Violet said proudly, pouring the two of them mugs of hot chocolate. The temperature had just dropped down to a chill that made warm drinks a necessity when coming in after a long walk, and they discovered hot chocolate was a favorite for both of them. "I think my problem before was that I opened during a slow period. Word of mouth is getting around!"
"That's good!" Hector said, accepting the offered mug. "Has th' house been behaving itself?"
Violet laughed. "It keeps visitors in the rooms I built," he said. "We've been getting enough people that I don't think it could handle creating new rooms for all of them."
"Don't want it t' stretch itself too thin, right?"
They nodded, a faraway look in their eyes. "Sometimes I open a door and start wandering," said Violet. "It's… incredible, really. That something I created could come to life like this… and it always brings me back to my bed when I'm done."
"Huh." Hector sipped his hot chocolate. "Yew must trust each other a lot."
"Of course!" Violet looked up, a happy crinkle in the corners of her eyes. "But enough about me. How have you been?"
Each visit, Hector learned more about Violet. They had lived in the Grove all their life, though they had some family on Earth. They had a background in carpentry, and they used it for their art. The Pomegranate House was their first solo art exhibition, but their sculptures had appeared in galleries in the past. He got to see some of them.
Violet must be learning about him, too, on top of all the information that was publicly available–but despite it all, he always treated Hector like a normal person. As if there was no baggage from those thirty-three years of godhood and their dramatic conclusion. Hector could be himself, without the shame he felt at being himself.
Most of the time, anyhow. Healing was a process.
One morning, at the grocery store, Hector spotted a display of pomegranates. He hadn't realized they were in season! He picked out two for his basket, one for him, and another to give to Violet that afternoon. They liked them, he knew, having named their exhibition after them. Hector smiled to himself, picturing Violet's face lighting up when he presented the gift, the smile in their eyes, a faint blush on their cheeks…
Hector stopped walking in the middle of the produce.
The more he thought about Violet, it became obvious that his feelings for her were romantic. Hector put a hand to his face, trying to hide his blush from any passersby. How could he feel that way? It would be presumptuous of him to consider his feelings being returned. With his age, with his reputation, with his anxieties and neuroses–dating someone was out of the question.
He felt his tail bump against someone's cart–he hadn't realized it was lashing. He tucked it between his legs and slunk to the registers. He could finish grocery shopping another time.
Hector's mind raced the whole way home. He couldn't date Violet, but he couldn't stop thinking about them, either. Every argument he had against dating them had a counter: Violet was barely any younger than him, they knew about his reputation and still saw him for who he was… and being around them calmed his anxious mind. Was it false hope? Or would Violet truly be open to a relationship?
He took a deep breath. Maybe a visit would help.
The closest bus stop to Violet's home still left him with a ten-minute walk, and Hector didn't want to take out the van. He moved slowly, resting on his cane more than he needed to, doubt prickling at his mind the closer he got.
What was he doing? Really, the moment he recognized his attraction to Violet, he should've cut ties before he did something to hurt him–never mind that such an action would hurt Violet on its own. Hector couldn't trust himself to treat him kindly, except he had managed to do so for the entire duration of their friendship.
Every reason for why he shouldn't pursue a relationship was refuted, leaving him with the irrational thought that maybe, maybe it would work.
Ah. Lost in his thoughts, he realized he had walked within view of the Pomegranate House.
Hector took a deep breath and continued onward.
Violet soon answered his knock. "I didn't expect you to visit today," they said, smiling with their eyes. "What brings you here?"
Hector smiled and held up the grocery bag. "Got yew something," he said. "Mind if I come in?"
"Of course you can!" She stepped back to let him in. "Do you want anything to drink?"
"Eh… just water." He wiped his hand on his pants. "I'm a little sweaty from th' walk, heh."
He sat at the table while Violet got him a cup of water. "Here," they said, handing it to him. "So, what did you get me?"
"Just this." Hector chuckled nervously and took out one of the pomegranates he had bought. "Saw 'em at the store an' thought of yew," he said. "Got one for myself, too."
Violet picked up the pomegranate and stared at it blankly for a moment–then laughed out loud. "I'd ask how you knew I liked them," he said, "but I think I made it pretty obvious. Thank you!"
"Heh, nawt a problem."
Hector trailed off, tapping his fingers on the table. Violet tilted their head. "Is something bothering you?"
"No! Nothin'!" he said quickly. "I just, uh… I got a lot on my mind, yew know?"
"Right," she said. "What's it about?"
"Uh…"
His cheeks grew hot. He tried to laugh off the awkwardness, but Violet frowned at him. They could tell when he was hiding something. "It's nothin' big," he said. "Just, uh… realized some… feelings I've been having."
"Good feelings, I hope?"
"Of course!" Hector said quickly–too quickly. "Just, uh…"
Hector took a moment to consider his course of action. He couldn't date Violet for reasons that were still valid despite the evidence to the contrary, but maybe hiding his feelings would be worse. Violet already knew something was on his mind, and he would know if he lied about it.
"I like yew," Hector said. "I like yew a lot, really." He smiled. "I know it wouldn't, yew know, work out in th' end, but… I like spending time with yew. I'm happy if we can keep being friends."
Violet's eyes widened. "You mean it?" they said. "You like me in that way?"
Immediately, he thought he made a mistake. "Yeah!" he said. "But–I know that's not what we are, and I'm fine with that! Really! It wouldn't work out, not with me."
She frowned. "Why not?"
"Well," he said with half a laugh, "I'm, um, me. I've got all this… history, an' it's silly to think someone would want t' date me, right? Like…" He ran his hand over his face. "It's already incredible that yew look past all that just t' be friends, I can't ask you to–to be more than that, it's crazy to even–" His breaths came out fast and shaky. "How can I even think about it, with who I am and what I did? I shouldn't even–I shouldn't–"
"Hector," said Violet.
They stood up. Hector covered his face, his cheeks growing hot. "Sorry," he mumbled.
"Hector," Violet said again, moving around the table to crouch at his side, "it's alright. I just didn't know you felt that way."
He put his hands on Hector's wrists and gently tugged them down. Hector could hardly bear to look at him. "I didn't know 'til today," he said. "I… I'm sorry."
Violet ran their fingers over Hector's palms. "You know," they said, "even if you think it wouldn't work, we won't know for sure unless we try."
"I–" He tripped over his words. "I don't wanna ruin anything! If it doesn't work–"
"Then we can go back to being friends."
Hector squeaked and couldn't say anything.
Violet had a smile in her eyes again. "I like you, too," she said. "I haven't dated a lot of people, as embarrassing as it is to admit at my age, but it would be nice to try again. With you."
Gods above, there were tears in his own eyes. "You mean it?" Hector said. "Even with all my–my history an' baggage an'–"
"Yes. I'm happy to know you."
Overwhelmed with emotion, Hector pulled Violet into a hug, his back shaking as he tried not to start crying right there and then. Violet made a surprised noise, then hugged him back.
"Y'know what I like the most about yew?" Hector said. "Yew look at me like I'm just… me. I don't hafta be Inspekta, or a leader, or anyone else."
Violet squeezed him. "I'm glad," they said. "I like who you are."
Hector only barely managed to keep himself together. Eventually, he pulled back from Violet with a half laugh, drying his face on his sleeve. "Yew're probably busy today," he said.
"Nothing outrageous," said Violet. "I don't have to open the house until this evening."
"Eh, I don't want to be a bother…"
"You're anything but." Violet's eyes twinkled. "You can stay longer, if you'd like."
Part of him wanted to protest. Certainly there were reasons why he shouldn't stay–even if his feelings were returned, Violet would get tired of him eventually, and he didn't want to accelerate that process.
Looking at Violet, all his objections faded away.
"Yeah," he said, taking Violet's hand in his own. "I'd like that a lot."
The End