ayzen.

When jungwon came to your door, knocking frantically in the early hours of the night. You assumed it was because he'd either come to ramble or join you in bed because of noisy thunder and didn't want to sleep alone.

You, his best friend, were practically used to these gestures frequented between the two. Both were inseparable since elementary school. You currently lived in a dorm for your secondary education, and next door lived yang jungwon, making it easy for him to slip in and out of your dorm.

You weren't anticipating him drenched, with his skin painfully pale as thunder roaring in the back. "are you ill?" you place a hand on his forehead to check his temperature, yet what you felt was sickening.

He was unbearably cold, your eyes dilating while jungwon ripped the hand off his forehead, intensely gazing at you. His fingertips were frigid, no warmth radiating off him like he was... dead.

You watched as his orbs glowed yellow, causing you to back away. "y/n," he voiced shakily, his eyes softening upon your visible fear. "i'm a vampire now."

You marveled at his words, jaw craned open in response. "what… how," you mutter, displaying your apparent shock. You shook your head violently, "come inside and explain."

The drenched boy, or now, vampire boy, agreed. He stepped inside while you maneuvered between his dorm and yours, fetching him a fresh pair of clothes. You return to your dorm, where he dried his damp hair with a dry towel.

You couldn't help but wonder what the boy could be thinking of now, and you knew better than to think he was joking. Vampires were on the loose for centuries, lurking around and turning innocent humans into their kind till immortality.

You offered jungwon the fresh pair of clothes, which he accepted, and peeled the soaked hoodie off him while you watched him. It wasn't any different between you two. Maybe it'd been long since last time, driving heat to rush to your cheeks.

You excused yourself, getting yourself and him a glass of water to quench your thirst. He settled on your bed, staring aimlessly into the air with the glass of water in hand. "how did it happen?" You question slowly, taking note that he could be shocked into consideration.

"i took maeumi on a walk around twelve before it started pouring. When I got back from the park, I realized that I had left my phone there. So I thought I'd retrieve it and found my phone on one of the benches and heard rustling from the bushes.

i figured it might be an abandoned pet. I then bent over to see, but it was a vampire," he paused, hesitancy building in his tone, "…feasting on a human. It launched at me, piercing its sharp canines into the crook of my neck. I thought this was the end, that I was going to die.

some elderly lady throwing out the trash saw me, muttered a few lines in a foreign language provoking the vampire to screech, and ran away... After that, I blacked out and woke up a vampire with a silent heart."

You stay silent, bearing everything disclosed. Jungwon mutely bored his eyes into his pale hands. "that's a lot to take in," you state the obvious, making him chuckle dryly.

"are you… hungry?"

He looked up at you in alarm, fiercely shaking his head from side to side with a gaze that could kill, "i won't."

"but—" "i said i won't."

You sough, honoring his wishes, "want normal food? I have some jajangmyeon from earlier," you mention, hoping he says yes. He did to your avail. "sure," he quipped, a halfhearted bread-like smile blooming on his lips, deep dimples on display.

You'd served him a bowl of jajangmyeon, seated beside him on the kitchen island, overseeing as he ate. How could you aid him possibly, "hate to say this, but what now," you spoke as jungwon stopped slurping on the noodle midway.

Maybe you shouldn't have brought it up. You observe jungwon's eyes glass over. He slurped the remaining noodle into his mouth, chewing on it silently, glancing at the marble top of the island.

He gulped down the bit of food he chewed, moving closer to you as the vampire placed hands on your shoulders, leaning in with his head rested in the crook of your neck.

If it weren't for the heartbroken tone, you'd probably have butterflies swarming your stomach. "I don't know, i don't want to be alone forever," jungwon croaked out, sniffling lightly.

You winded your arms around him, embracing him. You ran a hand down his hair soothingly. Right now would be the worst time to confess that you liked him for years before, moreover that those feelings are returning.

You recall the first time your friend teased you about being his girlfriend in grade 7, and the thought hadn't escaped your mind since.

The denial came and went, acceptance settling in, though you realized harboring feelings for your best friend could end everything.

If it didn't go your way, you'd lose him. As a result, you pushed your feelings to the side, convincing yourself that being friends was enough. You eventually lost your feelings for him.

So why'd your heart pound against your ribcage while you gap into his gloomy and tired orbs?

You put away the bowl in the sink, opting to do the dishes in the morning. You held jungwon by the hand, lugging him to your bed. "it's late. we should get some rest," you say, readying yourself to go to bed, the clock ticking 2:36 am.

Yet jungwon didn't budge from his stance in front of your bed as you tidied the pillows. "jungwon," you voice desperately, hearing your voice crack. He gulped down the unknown lump in his throat, peering at your pleading eyes.

He settled beside you on the mattress, laying down and kicking the blanket onto both. You laid down, turning to him, shuffling closer like a magnet.

"i might have someone who can help with this," you articulate, shattering the silence as jungwon tucked you in his arms. You peer up at him full of hope. "let's pay them a visit tomorrow," he responded.

"good night, won."

"good night, y/n." He returned, resisting the fragrant smell of your scarlet blood and the urge to bore his now monstrous canines into the crook of your neck.

You'd risen from a painful nightmare eerily early, noting the time on your phone; 7:48 am. It was scarring, where jungwon died at the vampire's hands, fangs injected into him, sucking his blood.

You were shaken awake from fear merely to find yourself being bear-hugged by the very vampire, face buried between your neck and pillow nape.

You attempt to make the boy let go of his death grip around, doing everything possible, yet to no avail. You groaned in exhaustion, opting to text your friend, jake, inquiring about the supernatural friend he claimed to have.

Not expecting a reply in the crack of early morning sunlight, you dozed back to sleep. Jungwon couldn't get you out of his mind, even in his dreams. Whether the indulging scent of your blood or just you, he'd dreamed of both.

He'd seared his teeth in your throat, consumed your sweet blood, and cuddled you while watching a movie. He was sure he'd never taste your blood, not wanting to injure you or turn you into his kind.

But jungwon wondered if he'd ever call you his, though he wasn't sure when he'd initially regarded you as more than a best friend. He fluttered his eyes open, landing his sights on your slumbered face. Your mouth opened in the slightest, rendering a toothy grin from him.

He snuggled to you, pulling into your slumber even deeper. But no, your phone rang through the serene daylight, nudging you awake. Jake read the contact name while you slide the green button to the side, answering the call.

"hello," you spoke, yawning as jungwon clung to you, pouting. You wondered why he was jutting his lips in a pout, dismissing the thoughts while you conversed with jake through the phone.

"no, it's not for me," you pause, gaze falling on the vampire boy who could only groan and shut his eyes while you saddened, "yes, thank you, jake." You conclude, cutting the line.

You turned to jungwon, poking his cheek, "shall we get ready to leave," you spoke softly, lightly pinching his cheek as he nodded. You left to your routine chores after freshening up, washing the dishes, and hanging your clothes and jungwon's wet ones to dry.

You strode to the kitchen, the following task at hand to prepare breakfast, solely for jungwon to be slanted against the island, toasting some bread.

"sandwich?" he asked, peering at you.

"sandwich." You repeated, a gummy smile lifting on your face. He was still the boy you grew up with; You helped the red-haired prepare the assortment of a sandwich, placing the vegetables, meat, and freshly toasted bread in order.

"this friend of yours," jungwon began pausing to munch on the sandwich made not 2 minutes ago. He must've been hungry. "can they really help?"

"only one way to find out,"

You followed the directions communicated by jake, taking a right turn with jungwon tailing behind you. "I think it should be…right up ahead..?" you drag cluelessly.

Nonetheless, you stepped forward and came across a whimsical-looking store, sharing a wary glance with your best friend. "wait, I'll open the door, just in case," he declared, stepping to the door and propelling it open, the bell chiming as he held the door for you.

"is anyone there?" you ask, peering around the mystical yet cozy shop. "indeed! You both must be here because of jake, i suppose," an unknown foxy-eyed boy not much older than both of your voices, scrutinizing you head to toe.

The vampire looked warily at foxy-eyed, placing an arm in front of you, protectively. "do you work here?" jungwon inquires, skeptical of him.

"i do, indeed," the feline-eyed quips, "how could i be of any help today," he inquires, a sly smile settling on his lips.

Jungwon turned to you, "i don't think he can be of any help. let's just leave," he whispered, producing you to shake your head disapprovingly. "No, we're not leaving," you state, clasping his wrist in your hand and hauling him to where the anonymous boy sat.

"so? do you need a love potion; it's a hot item these days, or to get revenge on the desired person? Many customers say they wreaked their revenge," the unknown boy spoke with his orb glistening, glancing at the two expecting a reply.

You gulp and muster up the courage to ask in favor of your vampire friend, "do you have anything that can transform creatures back into a human?" you question. You hoped he wouldn't stare at you weirdly for it.

"oh…no, I don't—"

"see, i told you he couldn't help," jungwon interrupts, facepalming.

"but i do possess something that can reverse time," the feline-featured concludes, sending a glare disapprovingly at the vampire boy.

Your orbs light up in hope as jungwon feigns silence. You urge the boy to continue, "You'll require this," he says, whipping out a miniature bottle filled with shimmering blue liquid and a red thread. "It's a high-priced item, and only two people can go back in time, but," he pauses, glancing at you two.

"but?" you question, not bothering about the price, "but you involve strong emotions, and I'd say a kiss would do the trick…" He completed, placing the tiny bottle on the table with the ruby thread, sliding them to you across the table.

"oh," you manage, your gaze nervously meeting jungwon's, who equally shared the look. "we'll take it," you answer shakily, placing the pricey amount on the counter and the small bottle and thread in your bag.

"so all we have to do is take a sip of this liquid, tie the thread around my pinky and then his. Then collectively think back to the date we want to change?"

"and kiss," he perks, sheepishly smiling.

"and you have two chances, so it's alright if you mess up the first time." he continued with a mischievous glint in his orbs.

You bid the boy goodbye and a thank you, turning to leave while stepping to exit. "wait!" the unknown boy shouts, "i must inform you, though, you will begin to forget why you've returned in time, so i advise you use your first chance as a test.

and if you find anything wrong with the timeline or such, come back to this shop. I'm always here regardless." He finished, beaming at you particularly. "alright, thank you… foxy-eyed boy!" you shout from the other end of the shop as you hear him chuckle, "the names sunoo!"

You exit the shop with jungwon, smiling that you had a chance at reversing jungwon's fate. "that wasn't all that bad," you say, a grin stretching across your lips, merely for the vampire to scoff, "this could be a scam, y/n, don't believe people so easily."

"don't be uptight, won. We could reverse your fate with it," you retort, observing the time ticked 6:03 pm. "now let's go to the cafe, then get home and try this," you say, referring to the sky-blue liquid tucked away in your bag. Jungwon only groans as you drag him to the nearest cafe, grabbing something for the both of you to eat.

The most nerve-racking part of the little ritual sunoo instructed remains minutes away from taking place. Your heart thumped while jungwon tied the thread on your pinky after he finished tying his.

"jungwon," you croak out, all the more anxiety invading you as he gazed at you doe-eyed. "yeah?" he asks, slowly corking the cork off the miniature bottle, careful not to spill any liquid.

"I'm nervous," you hurriedly voice, fiddling with your fingers, looking down at them. "I'm nervous too, but it's fine. We have two chances, y/n," the boy replies, reassuring me about the wrong thing.

"that's not what I'm nervous about," you halt, gulping down the tense feeling, urging yourself to continue, "I'm nervous about the kiss." Silence follows as you think the world collapsed on you.

"not that the fact I'll kiss you but what it'll become of our friendship if we—" he cuts you off, placing a hand on your cheek, cupping your face and leaning forward, and connecting his lips to yours.

You felt his cold lips against yours instantly, but it spread warmth through your chest as you reciprocated the motion, grinning into the kiss. Fireworks go off in your head as he pulls away, smiling with his dimples, looking adorable.

"our relationship will be what you want it to be, y/n," he ends, perfectly encapsulating the moment that will remain ingrained in your memory for years to come.

"you know that we had to kiss after we sipped on liquid, not before," you say, snickering while he smacked his forehead, hiding his rosy tinted cheeks.

"it's fine, i wouldn't mind kissing you again anyways," he mutters, promptly taking a sip of the glowing blue liquid, acting like he wasn't the cause of heat speeding to your cheeks. Familiar feelings of butterflies zooming around in your stomach erupted.

He delivers the bottle, only a quarter empty, ensuring there's enough for the second chance. You sip the blue liquid that tastes like blue lemonade, much to your surprise.

"oh wow, it tastes just like blue lemonade," you comment while jungwon shifts forward on the sofa and towards you. If it weren't the present circumstances, you'd think he'd gotten a bit cold or sat closer.

However, you knew he shifted closer to kiss you, not that he would mind as he said. "try not to forget," you manage to utter as there's a slight gap connecting the two. "you too." he returns before going forward with the anticipated motion.

And so he placed his lips on yours softly. It was slightly awkward as the distance between your bodies was considerably larger than your faces. "come closer," he uttered hushedly against your lips. You did as told, his hand resting on your forearm.

He soon broke the kiss, hearing him laugh in a daze as you're lightheaded. You find yourself laying back on the couch's armrest, head spinning, shutting your eyes in accordance. Jungwon gripped your hand as he experienced the same.

i. April 25th, 7:30 pm

In a second, you sat in front of the tv, flicking through the channels as if nothing had happened, "so it worked," you marveled, astonished. But wait, "what worked?" you question yourself, not sure why you were astonished that the tv could change channels.

Did I forget something..?

Oh well, you think, continuing to switch through the channels.

ii. April 25th, 9:45 pm

You ate dinner, unable to consume everything you prepared, opting to store the remains in a box. You placed it in the fridge to reheat it and eat it later.

You latch the main door to your dorm, knocking on jungwon's to bother him and see what he's doing. He paned the door open, permitting you inside, "kart rider?" He suggested, already setting up the equipment, expecting your excited nod.

You had gotten busy with school, not being able to hang with your best friend as much. You wouldn't pass up the opportunity to play kart rider with him, let alone spend time with him.

Many losses and wins later, you yawn, extending your limbs accordingly. "don't you need to walk maeumi now?" you inquire, making jungwon fling his head up instantly, hard enough to get whiplash, "right," he says in remembrance.

"you should get some sleep. I'll walk maeumi in the nearby park and come back," he says, and you nod, stepping to the door and opening it.

Something felt off, but you couldn't place your finger on what.

Yet you stayed at the doorway grounded, unable to move. Your gut briefed you not to leave but to accompany jungwon, who walked out the door with maeumi.

He waited for you to move out the way of the door so he could secure it. You did once he gained your attention from your thoughts. "jungwon," you say, inching nearer to the boy, "i don't think you should go alone,"

"i'll be fine. I can take care of myself, y/n," the crimson-haired responded, stroking your shoulder. Jungwon retained the instinctual feeling that screamed at him to avoid going alone.

He shook his head side to side, ignoring those thoughts, striding to the park after waving and shouting a brief good night towards you.

iii. April 25th, 11:56 pm

The walk with maeumi had gone smoothly despite the churning gut feeling that hadn't left him since. He twisted the doorknob open after inserting his keys in the respective hole, sparing a glance to your door wondering why you looked so anxious earlier.

He dismissed those thoughts, allowing maeumi inside as it started to drizzle that progressed to rain. He patted his pocket in search of his phone but felt nothing. It then dawned on him that he'd left his phone at the park.

He groaned before tying his shoelaces again, closing the door with an umbrella in hand as it began raining mere seconds after he'd gotten back.

The tall boy advanced to the nearby park, tracing his way to the bench he'd sat on moments ago. He'd forgotten all about his phone on that bench.

He picked up the device and heard the shrubs rustle, gaining his attention. Thinking it was a lost pet, the boy looked over the bush, though his inner voice dared not to.

You jolt up in a panic, momentarily remembering why, where, and what you were here to do. You shuffled your slippers on your feet in record time and sprinted to the park. You were getting drenched in frigid raindrops, but that was your last concern.

You recognize your best friend, still alive and breathing with a beating heart and not unusually pale, looking over the bush. You sigh in relief and call out to him, "jungwon!" you exclaim, a distance away from the boy as the rain pattered on you.

"huh," he expresses, snapping his head to you as a creature launched at him, tackling your best friend to the ground with a thud. In a moment, it'd injected its fangs in jungwon's neck, draining the color out of his face.

You screeched, feet pacing to the vampire, striking it in the head with jungwon's now discarded umbrella. The vampire hissed at you, now advancing to you. You freeze as it approaches you, but jungwon clasps its feet while clutching his neck in pain, making it fall face-first to the ground.

An elderly lady gasps at the scene before uttering a mantra in an unknown language, making the vampire hiss, seemingly in great pain, and flee from sight. You run to jungwon, who lay on the frosty ground as the harsh rain splashed on the two, one no longer human.

"I'm sorry," you sob, though your tears blended in with the rain as jungwon falls unconscious from the bite, his heartbeat coming to a halt.

iv. April 26th, 8:03 pm

You gasp heavily, lifting yourself off the armrest, panicking as you regard your pale friend. Jungwon was nonetheless a vampire. You feel the water slip from the brink of your eyes. You weep uncontrollably, jungwon front sullen, unsure at the rundown of events.

"it's fine. We have another chance, remember"

"i just saw you die in front of me, won, and just stood there," you convey with a trembling voice, breath unsteady. "It's okay." jungwon mutters, hoping to persuade you that everything is alright.

He grasped the faded blue liquid that no longer shimmered like it formerly did. "jungwon," you utter silently, tapping on his arm to avert his attention to the red thread tied around your pinkies that slowly disappeared.

"don't we need the thread…"

Jungwon remains silent, refusing to accept reality. And so his tears rolled down his cheeks like gold, ever a rare sight to see him cry. You could count on one hand the times you'd see him cry.

"he lied. sunoo lied." he voiced, his words stabbing at your heart repeated as you shook your head, frantically reaching for your phone. You dialed jake, waiting for him to pick up solely for the line to beep and end.

They lied.

"only if I knew— I would've tried harder," you croak, choking another sob. "won," you attempt to pull jungwon out of the palms of his hands as he gutted a heart-wrenching cry, no longer tucking his head in his palms but finding it on your shoulder while you embraced him.

"I'm sorry, i'm so sorry, i should've let the vampire bite me, then you wouldn't be alone—" you pause, reflecting on your words.

"jungwon," he lowly hums in response, head still against your shoulder, silence dragging. "could you do me a favor,"

"if it's for you, I'd give up everything, y/n." "then bite me,"

Speechlessness drawled, lifting his tear-stained face to meet yours, "of course not." He was clear with his statement. "please, at least I can spend my entire immortality with you. Everything's okay if you're with me, jungwon."

"why give up beating heart for a still one like mine," he spoke, teardrops rolling down the length of his pale glistening skin. You sniffle sadly, cupping his cheek, clamping your lips to his cheek stained with tears.

The sentiment was tender, but everything had to end as all things do. You pull away, a soft smile grazing your lips, gazing into jungwon's eyes adoringly, hand resting on his cheek in a soothing action, calming the vampire.

"because I like you, won, I always have."

His eyes watered, this time from both happiness and sadness. "i like you too," he says softly. "but are you…sure?" he questions, breath hitting your neck, "yes," you reply, shutting your eyes and waiting for the impact.

He soughed shakily, complying to mark your neck with his fangs. He soughs shakily, pressing a small peck on the spot of your neck he'd pierce his fangs into seconds later.

His fangs tore through your delicate skin, carefully feasting on your ever-sweet blood. "jungwon, don't feel guilty, please," you voice quietly.

You knew he'd begun to lose control, but you didn't mind as crazy as it seems. You had no regard over your life at the moment and when it came to him.

And like you recognized, he'd lost control, intoxicated by your blood. All till he realized that you'd shut your eyes, breath getting shallow.

"no, y/n, I didn't mean to—" for the nth time in the night, he cried harder than previous as you fastened your eyes, smiling weakly.

"thank you, jungwon." remain your last words.

Jungwon shrieked atop his lungs, enraged. He'd failed to restrain his desire; he'd killed you, his best friend that he knew for ages, a best friend turned crush. Yet he'd drank out your blood, leading you to your death.

Though the smile never left your lips as you stared at him in your eternal slumber. The pleasant expression you adorned contrasted the horror in jungwon's, riddled with immense guilt he would carry for centuries to come.

jungwon thought he was a monster and a cold-blooded murderer ever since.

He wandered to these fields for his lonesome mind to sing to some melody of a song you didn't know, caressing the petals of the varied and wilting flowers. You accompanied him with a sketchbook in hand, your hands at work, your ears to his humming and occasional tunes with no comments or interruptions. You had not a thread attached with his absolute, practical life, and that's what he grew to enjoy as he sang you sweet songs and admired the minimalist beauty of flowers for hours together before he vanished back the trail he hiked up.

A decade long later, he stood the same punctual, intellectual, stellar citizen as his facial features  matured and took a dark yet captivating bloom while he sobered from a teen to a young adult. Now the heir of his grandfather's company, he revelled in the success of his grandfather's business. To say he grew would be an understatement, rarely ever flashing you that lovable boyish grin, never to sing his silly little tunes in front of you again.

You weren't one to pry, years into your first ever relationship with your first love and beyond afraid to lose your loose yet stitched in place frail, threaded red heart the two of you share. The photobook stared upon you, urging you to reminisce about your uneventful past filled with mostly jay. The current times didn't get any exciting either, you painted and attended exhibitions, the usual smile carried on your peach tinted lips at the guests and those interested in buying your pieces.

Contrary to this, jay barely made it home, cooped up in his office all day everyday, allowing himself to come home merely upon completing his work. You didn't mind really, the two of you went out, spoke to each other often, and were happy. This while around, he had been distant for a week or two, his longest record of shutting you out till date. You figured he was exhausted mentally and gave him the space though you wished to circle in his arms and breath wistfully.

You veered your attention to the pages and stopped on one of jay, sat beneath the tree near your old, broken, rundown house, looking into the farther distance, admiring the view, and so were you at the time, etching each feature of his delicately put together face, ingraining it in your mind, taking out your then new but now ancient camera to capture the spectacle.

You grin at the photo stuck, your orbs drifting to the messy lyrics he'd written in english to match the mood of the moment, this particular one that of your favourite song till date, one that he used to sing you to sleep.

"what are you looking so fondly at," uttered jay whose presence you failed to recognise in the room, his exasperated expression making you almost coo at him. You patted on the bedding beside as he followed, crossing your painting that you'd left to dry for hours ere.

"our photo book," you replied gaily, surprised to see him speaking to you after weeks, instinctively reaching for his cheek and staring into his eyes to find the very night sky in them, to find them gleaming right at you, the type stars would beam before they went out. A mesmerising yet sad beauty.

His gaze flickered from your soulful eyes and he glued his sights to the photo and hummed in agreement, "i guess i've always looked this good," he finished the tire in his vocals evident with a slight snicker. You shifted closer to him on the bedding which you wrinkled in the process, "you always have," you completed, pulling him closer by the hand that cupped his cheek.

You drawled yourself up to his level, running your thumb back and forth on his soft skin while your other hand ran through his soft hair, watching as he watched you with this solemn look you couldn't put a finger on. You smiled wider and hovered your lips over his as you ultimately gave in to his alluring presence and pressed your soft lips to his in a desperate yet sweet manner.

He hummed from bewilderment and slinged an arm around your waist, inching the distance closer than possible, tilting his head further and into you as he danced with your lips. You pulled away and gasped, blinking as bliss hit you, wondering if it could get any better than this? You drew away and slotted your lips on his again, covering his frantic yet slow lips, kissing him passionately, emptying out your heartfelt sentiments in the shared motion. 

You climbed off and undid his tie and the first button of his dress shirt and told him to wash up, getting to your feet, fetching him comfortable clothes and a glass of water to drink. He changed into them after washing up and sat back down on the mattress, back pressed to the headboard, the glass coming in contact with his lips that stained yours not long ago.

He glugged the cool water down his throat and set the now empty glass on the bedside table, your hand ruffling his hair as he yearned for your lips to confirm his doubt, tugging down and setting his lips against yours to feel the emotion again as you relaxed into his warm touch after a long day. 

He separated the connection as a string of saliva drew apart and suspended, a sigh of what you thought was content from jay as he flopped to the soft matting underneath him. A pit settled in his stomach and he felt guilt. He chose to ignore the feeling and set his eyes to a close.

You joined him, clinging onto him, kicking on the blanket to yourself and snuggling into his shoulder with a grin. Jay forcefully shut his eyes with a wince he hoped you'd miss it and placed his hand on your waist. Jay pretended to sleep as you hiked up on your elbow, leaning to press a peck to his forehead and mutter, "i love you."

Truth be told, jay sighed out of worry than content.

Jan Look back, reminisce the times

ii. blossom

You gotten used to the sight of jays absence when you awoke from your prolonged slumber, even the days you rose as early as 8, he’d be out the door, bidding you goodbye as he tucked in the loop of tie and tighten it around the collar, patting you on the head before bolting out the door and zooming off in his vehicle.

He’s been distant but never avoiding, and that's what you felt like he was doing this time; avoiding. As painful as it was to accept the fact that he had been avoiding you for the past week was hurtful. Yes, he was out and at work, he hadn’t stepped foot in the house since a week, nor would he receive your calls, excusing himself through text messages shorter than 5 words.

Time you made him show up yourself. 

You spent almost the entire day prepping your setting, going as far as decorating and cooking something you saw online which ended up pretty decent. Now, all you needed was to lure jay like a wasp to light. You picked up your cell, dialling his number, your throat feeling rather scruffy as you coughed on the ringing line to soothe the uncomfortable sensation.

“did i work too hard for this, i feel my throat closing up,” you mumble, waiting for the line to connect, the mere automated voice blaring through your ear canal causing you to hang up and opt to text him. “come home, its an emergency,”

Not the best, but surely it’d do the trick, and in an hour's time, jay showed up, panting as he bolted the door open, “where's the fire!” he shouted, standing in the common room, across your resting figure on the couch. You yelped and got to your feet, rushing over and placing both hands over your heart, “here.”

His expression morphed from his initial shock to confusion and to anger. He should've seen it coming as it was February the 14th, Valentine's day. Discarding the tie to his fist, he stared you down with menacing eyes, making you gulp down the present discomfort in your throat, your fearful yet expectant orbs gazing into his raged one.

“i’m really trying to control myself,” “good, we haven’t even started,”

With his tongue poking the side of his cheek from annoyance, you led him to the backyard where a table was set from your preparation and he seemed surprised at the notion, and his mouth slitted open as you hauled the piping hot dish towards the meagre wobbling metal table that withheld the dishes well, allowing you to take a seat opposite of jay.

The look in his eyes was penetrating, feeling your throat close in more as you coughed uncontrollably prompting him to hand you a glass of water, glued to his seat as he observed you heave up and down before the hectic coughing subsided and you felt the air reach your nostril and travel without a hitch to your lungs.

“sorry, i, uh, made us dinner,” you conveyed, forcing a wide smile while overlooking your fit of spontaneous fits of coughing, “i can see that,” he responded sternly, beginning to serve the food onto both plates, his eyes not letting up the cold act for a millisecond, like he almost meant it.

You picked at your food, staring at him eat wordlessly, the irritation in your throat causing you to gag and wince every now and then before you mustered to pierce through the tension filled atmosphere, “did i do something wrong?” The resounding clang of the utensil to the plate made you straighten your back, “no, i’m just upset over the fact you had to lie to get me here,” he paused, drifting off into a daze, “i haven’t come home in a while, i know,”

He shifted away from your constraint, locking eyes with his meal and eating the plate clean, “you’ve gotten better at cooking,” he commented, shutting his eyelids and leaning back on the cold metal of the chair, waiting for you finish your respective meal, making you swallow down the larger chunks in haste. You stood to your feet, the ordeal leaving a metallic taste in your mouth. The chair scraped back, you collected the dishes and placed them in the sink, the unsettling pit in your stomach only digging deeper with the irking sensation in the back of your throat growing ratched.

You went to bed with a heavy heart, his back facing yours as he wordlessly drifted to slumber, leaving you to your consuming thoughts. Maybe, just maybe, he really was exhausted. You shouldn't have been so disapproving of him for his mental absence.

Either way, your plan was an absolute failure.

The sun rose inevitably and jay arose to his right, feet planted on the rugged flooring, remaining sat on the bedding, heaving a loud sigh. He peered over his back to sneak a peek at your asleep state. The way your eyes were clamped shut and your brows furrowed with a strong pout spoke enough of your nightmare and jay exhaled into his palms away from you.

He'd hate to break your heart but he'd hate to lead you on even more. He couldn't bring himself to feel the same anymore, his emotionality drained and his sentiments aside, he felt guilt to have wronged you. He felt like a shitty person every morning to face your innocent stature suffocating him in wallow. So, every morning, he left before you awoke to stop the aching in his wilting heart.

The dip in the mattress rises as he does, stepping disheartedly to the bathroom to start his mundane routine. The shower head shoots water as his hair dampens, his sole salty tears mixing with the overhead resource, tears drowning in silence. You stir awake with your throat suffocatingly sore to the point where swallowing water was excruciatingly painful.

The small clock on the bed side table ticked with faint clicks, the hour handle clocked at 7 with the longer needle on 40 as the splinter-like needle spun periodically. You coughed, finding it hard to breathe, the itching sensation increasing as you felt something will up your throat, your hand bracing your mouth in a clasp. 

Mustering out the strange discomfort inducing object, you coughed out a petite, white petal, accompanied with a sized spot of blood painting its own canvas— your palm, per se. Observing the viscous liquid the upside length of your hand, you begin to feel nauseous, ripping the blanket off you and grasping your neck from pain.

You separated the petal from the splash or crimson, clutching it in your free hand as jay made his way over to you, draped in a bathrobe, ushering your tained palm inspect. He grimaced at the sight of blood staining your palm, his thumb instinctively finding your cheek rubbing it of what he attempted to seem affectionate. 

Tears pricking your orbs, you urged forward and wrapped your arms around him merely to be held away from his hold with a jerk, making you gape clueless. "it'll stain," he reminded, though he'd pushed you for other reasons he couldn't have the guts to come clean too.

Wiping your eyes dry, you stepped away from him and washed away the substance while jay suited up for work. You left the premise and returned to where jay buttoned his shirt hastily. You strode up to him and finally found yourself in his hesitant hold, peering up to him with glossy eyes. 

He sighed into your face, his arms tightening around you as you hiked to his eye level in your tiptoes to press a peck to his lips. You approached forward and pecked his lips, to confirm your growing doubt. You readjusted to kiss him, parting your mouth only for him to pull you back once again with another excuse. 

"you haven't brushed your teeth yet," he delivered with a soft tone, running his hand down your bed hair. It stung. Not just your throat, your heart, years ago into your relationship you'd made out plenty of times with a nasty breath and none of you seemed to mind. He really was making… excuses. 

The flowers, the blood—him avoiding you, your fleeting touch— most importantly, he began to ignore your feelings for him. 

Jay was falling out of love with you.

iii. grow thorns

Desperate. That's what you felt coursing through your veins as you curled into a ball on the carpeted floor in the empty residence, jay long gone on a business trip to wherever. Upon your gruesome piecing together, you felt despair and spent most of your time wallowing in streams of tears.

It was March and you laid sick in bed, occasionally leaving to fulfil your regular duties as a human while completely neglecting physical activity and socialising, not like you were good at either but this case was extreme. The same boy you felt deeply connected to, the boy who made you understand what love felt like, the boy who showed you true love—which your parents always failed to accommodate— was also the boy who'd crumble your fragile beating soul to rubble.

Your first petals you coughed were once pea size petals that gradually turned into full fledged, grown petals, heaving up your trachea, branches growing in your lungs making it all the much harder for you to breathe. In arounv a week's time, was your anniversary with jay. It'd be foolish to think he'd just take you back like that after the answer of unrequited love stood from your lungs. 

Perhaps if he broke your heart a second time, you would be convinced and mercilessly succumb to the inevitable.

You kept the petals you threw to a side, setting up a fresh canvas and painting a blank later for white onto it. Unsure of what to paint, you stood contemplating what you were even doing in the first place but the thought of gifting it to him seemed motivating and so you began.

Strokes of wet paint slapped onto the once pearly white canvas, skilledly sketching with your brush the outline of your objects, filling in the remnants of white into the backdrop of the portrait. It wasn't over till it was, eventually over. The faint lines of your boyfriend became clear and so had your mind. You knew what your next change of plan would be.

Jay returned around two weeks later and by then your health had declined and the loneliness merely increased. Hesitant to speak to you, you took the hint and mainted your distance as well, only interacting when needed as he used the spare bedroom to rest. Indeed,.t hurt to think that he found it hard to even sleep next to you but you weren't going to take it till he uttered the words himself.

Then came your anniversary. The two of you had been great friends for four years and then dated for four and you'd like to say that you both were still going strong, though your current situation said all but that. You requested jay to help in making dinner for the while none of you spoke a word of the day's occasion.

You were at work chopping the vegetables as jay readied the base, sprinkling some spices and checking the flavouring every now and then all without saying a word to you. Your eyes travelled from the steaming stew to where he placed the spoon between his lips, a furrow creasing on his face, tongue clicking.

"salt," he mumbled, eyes drifting from around where he situated, then shifting to around you. The salt was placed beside the chopping board, and that meant it was across you, an arm's distance. Without much thought, he stepped closer to you and reached for the salt, his arm brushing past your waist, causing him to tense, his orbs darting to yours.

You solemnly watched his eyes grow from hesitate to panic to worry. Worry, however, caught you off guard? His hand remained on the salt bottle, arm still at your waist. "you've gotten thin," he mustered, peering down  at you. Your lips parted and cursed yourself for the water gathering in your tear glands.

You shifted to face him and your fists collided with the material of his shirt, clutching it in your grasp while you looked to your feet to collect your thoughts. Jay watched with no thoughts, bewildered at your shaken state. Just in time, your throat began to cave in.

You showed him your back, heaving up and down, the petals trailing up your throat and hitting your palm. You smacked your chest uncomfortably to stop the tractions to not let him suspect anything was out of order.

"you okay?" he queried, feeling the thumps of his feet getting closer to you, panicking as you collected blood and petals into your hand, the fear of him peeking it at your new high. He reached to your position and you scurried off in a haste towards the washroom. Passing by your jar of petals, you dropped them into the pot in a hurry as jay caught up to you.

Drowning the crimson in the sink you ran water on your hands, cutting the water supply and placing your wetted hands on the cold counter, panting. The heavy footsteps echoed and then soon were planted behind you. You gazed at his fallen front in the mirror. Why? Why did he look disheartened? Did he feel something for you after all?

He panned you around, caging you to the marbled counter, sealing in his arms with your chest by his, solely daring to search for any love in his eyes. Yanking the sleeve of your sweatshirt laid a spot of crimson from the viscous liquid. You mentally winced and set your sights away from him.

His finger glided to your chin and brought you towards his front, his palm resting on your cheek, "you're not okay, are you darling," he conveyed as your heart grumbled at the endeared name, a stray tear threatening to stain your cheek. "i've been unwell,"

The silence dawned on the two of you as he buried his hand in your hair, tugging down on it to tilt your head up, and his finger parting your nimble lips, the salty taste lingering in his mouth as he pressed down, and gave you a kiss. Under any circumstance than this, you'd relish the feeling but you felt sick with your throat itching.

Nonetheless, you played into his act of affection, gripping him further as his neck dipped to reach further in your cavern. Taking in what'd be the last time you'd ever meet his lips with such fever you attempted to feel the texture of his moist lips diving in and out. the pop sound loud and clear as you pulled him off of you. He settled his hand by your ear, his thumb giving you a false sense of security as he rested his forehead against yours.

"shall we get married?"

The falter in his facials was apparent and you felt your heart fall to your stomach. "marriage? what are you talking about, we're only 21," he missed, trying to play it cool.

"you know I love you right?" you did love him, you weren't lying but he didn't and you wouldn't let go of him till he said those harsh words himself.

His lack of reply set you off and you changed your blank face to that of despair, " you don't love me?" 

"i…"

You shoved him away, crinkling your eyes in downward crescents as tears peaked from your eyes, playing at his heart strings. You felt the similar aggression of anger pile in him as he rushed his breathing, brows furrowing deep and the same mouth you kissed parted to utter icy words..

"do you know how it feels to date the one you've known and cared for since you were child?! not once have I ever hurt you nor done anything to hurt and i never will but I can’t sleep at night looking at your unaware face that i settled to for work. It’d break my heart to break your’s but i can’t let up with this without feeling guilty for leading you on when i cannot bring myself to feel those sentiments of love— i just don’t love you like before! "

Though you knew it was coming, the actuality hurt so much more. The lines of him declining your love for him played repeatedly. Jay left the room and the house, slamming the front door to possibly never return again. You sobbed even harder than before, falling to the floor urging the feeling to succumb to die as you coughed up amounts of blood  and petals onto the floor in shambles.

iv. wither

April came as fast as March left with Jay slamming the door, never to return under any circumstance. You strongly believed he began living at his office unless one friend allowed him to stay over for an extended period of time. You, however, hadn't had any luck with getting better, accepting you would die soon.

Mustering any strength you conjured to get out of bed, meeting the carpeted floor where you'd spend hours staring at the ceiling with teary eyes. You were going to go down like this, despite your dreams and aspirations, this was how'd you succumb to death.

The sole motivation to sit by your canvas, that slowly came to picture, was the haunted expression in his front you could imagine ever so vividly. You meagre around the house to get your jar of thrown up petals, stained scarlet, quite a nice piece of decor to the vicinity though it'd be too bad that you'd be gone to not see it as one.

Frailly reaching for one petal, then another, you stuck them in carefully, the internal shaking refusing to seize as your breath turned shallow, leaving you gasping for air, overexerting yourself in finishing the piece. 

On the once pearly white canvas sat a portrait of jay through the lens of your antique camera where you stood a trail of your petals and blood mixed onto the canvas, increasing as they led to your situation behind the camera just like your dying self behind the canvas.

Finishing the painting, you felt the hot breath hit your tired out hands and brittle paint dipped fingers— the same fingers Jay would kiss to you sleep, ticking you into bed if you ran a fever— were also the ones that gripped to the head rest, giving to the growing tiredness that overcame you, turning to lie flat on your back.

The keys jingled in the near distance, jay slipping in through the door, watching as nothing had really moved around in the house. He contemplated on notifying you of his abrupt appearance, opting to slowly creep up the stairs. Unknown to you, you had started coughing again, the strength in your arms to cover your mouth non-existent.

Resulting in the blood coating you and the mattress in a painful fit of red as you sobbed heartbroken to yourself wondering where it went wrong, did he require more space, had you been more mindful would he still be at your side.

Jay stilled on hearing your heart wrenching sobs, the previous hesitance gone as he ran up the stairs and to your situation on the bed stained bed. Having forgotten about your coughing fit of blood through the apparent stress from the separation. 

His sight fell to the canvas in front of him greeting as you cough seized, your eyelids lugging over your glassed over orbs, jay getting to knees as he saw you covered in blood, his hand finding your paint ridden hand. You gave a weak chuckle, "if we ever meet again, I hope it works out then," you say, the diamonds leaving the comfort of your eyes and onto your crimson imposed self. 

Jay heaved from panic, "why didn't you tell me?!" He hurried exclaimed, his hand running down your arm to keep your burning vessel even warmer. Unbeknownst to him he'd been crying and you watched with low eyes close to shutting, your palm lifting up to his tear stricken cheek, "just know," you paused, shutting your eyes completely feeling the life get sucked out of your body. 

"i loved you."

He wandered to these fields for his lonesome mind to sing to some melody of a song you didn't know, caressing the petals of the varied and wilting flowers. You accompanied him with a sketchbook in hand, your hands at work, your ears to his humming and occasional tunes with no comments or interruptions. You had not a thread attached with his absolute, practical life, and that's what he grew to enjoy as he sang you sweet songs and admired the minimalist beauty of flowers for hours together before he vanished back the trail he hiked up.

A decade long later, he stood the same punctual, intellectual, stellar citizen as his facial features  matured and took a dark yet captivating bloom while he sobered from a teen to a young adult. Now the heir of his grandfather's company, he revelled in the success of his grandfather's business. To say he grew would be an understatement, rarely ever flashing you that lovable boyish grin, never to sing his silly little tunes in front of you again.

You weren't one to pry, years into your first ever relationship with your first love and beyond afraid to lose your loose yet stitched in place frail, threaded red heart the two of you share. The photobook stared upon you, urging you to reminisce about your uneventful past filled with mostly jay. The current times didn't get any exciting either, you painted and attended exhibitions, the usual smile carried on your peach tinted lips at the guests and those interested in buying your pieces.

Contrary to this, jay barely made it home, cooped up in his office all day everyday, allowing himself to come home merely upon completing his work. You didn't mind really, the two of you went out, spoke to each other often, and were happy. This while around, he had been distant for a week or two, his longest record of shutting you out till date. You figured he was exhausted mentally and gave him the space though you wished to circle in his arms and breath wistfully.

You veered your attention to the pages and stopped on one of jay, sat beneath the tree near your old, broken, rundown house, looking into the farther distance, admiring the view, and so were you at the time, etching each feature of his delicately put together face, ingraining it in your mind, taking out your then new but now ancient camera to capture the spectacle.

You grin at the photo stuck, your orbs drifting to the messy lyrics he'd written in english to match the mood of the moment, this particular one that of your favourite song till date, one that he used to sing you to sleep.

"what are you looking so fondly at," uttered jay whose presence you failed to recognise in the room, his exasperated expression making you almost coo at him. You patted on the bedding beside as he followed, crossing your painting that you'd left to dry for hours ere.

"our photo book," you replied gaily, surprised to see him speaking to you after weeks, instinctively reaching for his cheek and staring into his eyes to find the very night sky in them, to find them gleaming right at you, the type stars would beam before they went out. A mesmerising yet sad beauty.

His gaze flickered from your soulful eyes and he glued his sights to the photo and hummed in agreement, "i guess i've always looked this good," he finished the tire in his vocals evident with a slight snicker. You shifted closer to him on the bedding which you wrinkled in the process, "you always have," you completed, pulling him closer by the hand that cupped his cheek.

You drawled yourself up to his level, running your thumb back and forth on his soft skin while your other hand ran through his soft hair, watching as he watched you with this solemn look you couldn't put a finger on. You smiled wider and hovered your lips over his as you ultimately gave in to his alluring presence and pressed your soft lips to his in a desperate yet sweet manner.

He hummed from bewilderment and slinged an arm around your waist, inching the distance closer than possible, tilting his head further and into you as he danced with your lips. You pulled away and gasped, blinking as bliss hit you, wondering if it could get any better than this? You drew away and slotted your lips on his again, covering his frantic yet slow lips, kissing him passionately, emptying out your heartfelt sentiments in the shared motion. 

You climbed off and undid his tie and the first button of his dress shirt and told him to wash up, getting to your feet, fetching him comfortable clothes and a glass of water to drink. He changed into them after washing up and sat back down on the mattress, back pressed to the headboard, the glass coming in contact with his lips that stained yours not long ago.

He glugged the cool water down his throat and set the now empty glass on the bedside table, your hand ruffling his hair as he yearned for your lips to confirm his doubt, tugging down and setting his lips against yours to feel the emotion again as you relaxed into his warm touch after a long day. 

He separated the connection as a string of saliva drew apart and suspended, a sigh of what you thought was content from jay as he flopped to the soft matting underneath him. A pit settled in his stomach and he felt guilt. He chose to ignore the feeling and set his eyes to a close.

You joined him, clinging onto him, kicking on the blanket to yourself and snuggling into his shoulder with a grin. Jay forcefully shut his eyes with a wince he hoped you'd miss it and placed his hand on your waist. Jay pretended to sleep as you hiked up on your elbow, leaning to press a peck to his forehead and mutter, "i love you."

Truth be told, jay sighed out of worry than content.

Jan Look back, reminisce the times

ii. blossom

You gotten used to the sight of jays absence when you awoke from your prolonged slumber, even the days you rose as early as 8, he’d be out the door, bidding you goodbye as he tucked in the loop of tie and tighten it around the collar, patting you on the head before bolting out the door and zooming off in his vehicle.

He’s been distant but never avoiding, and that's what you felt like he was doing this time; avoiding. As painful as it was to accept the fact that he had been avoiding you for the past week was hurtful. Yes, he was out and at work, he hadn’t stepped foot in the house since a week, nor would he receive your calls, excusing himself through text messages shorter than 5 words.

Time you made him show up yourself. 

You spent almost the entire day prepping your setting, going as far as decorating and cooking something you saw online which ended up pretty decent. Now, all you needed was to lure jay like a wasp to light. You picked up your cell, dialling his number, your throat feeling rather scruffy as you coughed on the ringing line to soothe the uncomfortable sensation.

“did i work too hard for this, i feel my throat closing up,” you mumble, waiting for the line to connect, the mere automated voice blaring through your ear canal causing you to hang up and opt to text him. “come home, its an emergency,”

Not the best, but surely it’d do the trick, and in an hour's time, jay showed up, panting as he bolted the door open, “where's the fire!” he shouted, standing in the common room, across your resting figure on the couch. You yelped and got to your feet, rushing over and placing both hands over your heart, “here.”

His expression morphed from his initial shock to confusion and to anger. He should've seen it coming as it was February the 14th, Valentine's day. Discarding the tie to his fist, he stared you down with menacing eyes, making you gulp down the present discomfort in your throat, your fearful yet expectant orbs gazing into his raged one.

“i’m really trying to control myself,” “good, we haven’t even started,”

With his tongue poking the side of his cheek from annoyance, you led him to the backyard where a table was set from your preparation and he seemed surprised at the notion, and his mouth slitted open as you hauled the piping hot dish towards the meagre wobbling metal table that withheld the dishes well, allowing you to take a seat opposite of jay.

The look in his eyes was penetrating, feeling your throat close in more as you coughed uncontrollably prompting him to hand you a glass of water, glued to his seat as he observed you heave up and down before the hectic coughing subsided and you felt the air reach your nostril and travel without a hitch to your lungs.

“sorry, i, uh, made us dinner,” you conveyed, forcing a wide smile while overlooking your fit of spontaneous fits of coughing, “i can see that,” he responded sternly, beginning to serve the food onto both plates, his eyes not letting up the cold act for a millisecond, like he almost meant it.

You picked at your food, staring at him eat wordlessly, the irritation in your throat causing you to gag and wince every now and then before you mustered to pierce through the tension filled atmosphere, “did i do something wrong?” The resounding clang of the utensil to the plate made you straighten your back, “no, i’m just upset over the fact you had to lie to get me here,” he paused, drifting off into a daze, “i haven’t come home in a while, i know,”

He shifted away from your constraint, locking eyes with his meal and eating the plate clean, “you’ve gotten better at cooking,” he commented, shutting his eyelids and leaning back on the cold metal of the chair, waiting for you finish your respective meal, making you swallow down the larger chunks in haste. You stood to your feet, the ordeal leaving a metallic taste in your mouth. The chair scraped back, you collected the dishes and placed them in the sink, the unsettling pit in your stomach only digging deeper with the irking sensation in the back of your throat growing ratched.

You went to bed with a heavy heart, his back facing yours as he wordlessly drifted to slumber, leaving you to your consuming thoughts. Maybe, just maybe, he really was exhausted. You shouldn't have been so disapproving of him for his mental absence.

Either way, your plan was an absolute failure.

The sun rose inevitably and jay arose to his right, feet planted on the rugged flooring, remaining sat on the bedding, heaving a loud sigh. He peered over his back to sneak a peek at your asleep state. The way your eyes were clamped shut and your brows furrowed with a strong pout spoke enough of your nightmare and jay exhaled into his palms away from you.

He'd hate to break your heart but he'd hate to lead you on even more. He couldn't bring himself to feel the same anymore, his emotionality drained and his sentiments aside, he felt guilt to have wronged you. He felt like a shitty person every morning to face your innocent stature suffocating him in wallow. So, every morning, he left before you awoke to stop the aching in his wilting heart.

The dip in the mattress rises as he does, stepping disheartedly to the bathroom to start his mundane routine. The shower head shoots water as his hair dampens, his sole salty tears mixing with the overhead resource, tears drowning in silence. You stir awake with your throat suffocatingly sore to the point where swallowing water was excruciatingly painful.

The small clock on the bed side table ticked with faint clicks, the hour handle clocked at 7 with the longer needle on 40 as the splinter-like needle spun periodically. You coughed, finding it hard to breathe, the itching sensation increasing as you felt something will up your throat, your hand bracing your mouth in a clasp. 

Mustering out the strange discomfort inducing object, you coughed out a petite, white petal, accompanied with a sized spot of blood painting its own canvas— your palm, per se. Observing the viscous liquid the upside length of your hand, you begin to feel nauseous, ripping the blanket off you and grasping your neck from pain.

You separated the petal from the splash or crimson, clutching it in your free hand as jay made his way over to you, draped in a bathrobe, ushering your tained palm inspect. He grimaced at the sight of blood staining your palm, his thumb instinctively finding your cheek rubbing it of what he attempted to seem affectionate. 

Tears pricking your orbs, you urged forward and wrapped your arms around him merely to be held away from his hold with a jerk, making you gape clueless. "it'll stain," he reminded, though he'd pushed you for other reasons he couldn't have the guts to come clean too.

Wiping your eyes dry, you stepped away from him and washed away the substance while jay suited up for work. You left the premise and returned to where jay buttoned his shirt hastily. You strode up to him and finally found yourself in his hesitant hold, peering up to him with glossy eyes. 

He sighed into your face, his arms tightening around you as you hiked to his eye level in your tiptoes to press a peck to his lips. You approached forward and pecked his lips, to confirm your growing doubt. You readjusted to kiss him, parting your mouth only for him to pull you back once again with another excuse. 

"you haven't brushed your teeth yet," he delivered with a soft tone, running his hand down your bed hair. It stung. Not just your throat, your heart, years ago into your relationship you'd made out plenty of times with a nasty breath and none of you seemed to mind. He really was making… excuses. 

The flowers, the blood—him avoiding you, your fleeting touch— most importantly, he began to ignore your feelings for him. 

Jay was falling out of love with you.

iii. grow thorns

Desperate. That's what you felt coursing through your veins as you curled into a ball on the carpeted floor in the empty residence, jay long gone on a business trip to wherever. Upon your gruesome piecing together, you felt despair and spent most of your time wallowing in streams of tears.

It was March and you laid sick in bed, occasionally leaving to fulfil your regular duties as a human while completely neglecting physical activity and socialising, not like you were good at either but this case was extreme. The same boy you felt deeply connected to, the boy who made you understand what love felt like, the boy who showed you true love—which your parents always failed to accommodate— was also the boy who'd crumble your fragile beating soul to rubble.

Your first petals you coughed were once pea size petals that gradually turned into full fledged, grown petals, heaving up your trachea, branches growing in your lungs making it all the much harder for you to breathe. In arounv a week's time, was your anniversary with jay. It'd be foolish to think he'd just take you back like that after the answer of unrequited love stood from your lungs. 

Perhaps if he broke your heart a second time, you would be convinced and mercilessly succumb to the inevitable.

You kept the petals you threw to a side, setting up a fresh canvas and painting a blank later for white onto it. Unsure of what to paint, you stood contemplating what you were even doing in the first place but the thought of gifting it to him seemed motivating and so you began.

Strokes of wet paint slapped onto the once pearly white canvas, skilledly sketching with your brush the outline of your objects, filling in the remnants of white into the backdrop of the portrait. It wasn't over till it was, eventually over. The faint lines of your boyfriend became clear and so had your mind. You knew what your next change of plan would be.

Jay returned around two weeks later and by then your health had declined and the loneliness merely increased. Hesitant to speak to you, you took the hint and mainted your distance as well, only interacting when needed as he used the spare bedroom to rest. Indeed,.t hurt to think that he found it hard to even sleep next to you but you weren't going to take it till he uttered the words himself.

Then came your anniversary. The two of you had been great friends for four years and then dated for four and you'd like to say that you both were still going strong, though your current situation said all but that. You requested jay to help in making dinner for the while none of you spoke a word of the day's occasion.

You were at work chopping the vegetables as jay readied the base, sprinkling some spices and checking the flavouring every now and then all without saying a word to you. Your eyes travelled from the steaming stew to where he placed the spoon between his lips, a furrow creasing on his face, tongue clicking.

"salt," he mumbled, eyes drifting from around where he situated, then shifting to around you. The salt was placed beside the chopping board, and that meant it was across you, an arm's distance. Without much thought, he stepped closer to you and reached for the salt, his arm brushing past your waist, causing him to tense, his orbs darting to yours.

You solemnly watched his eyes grow from hesitate to panic to worry. Worry, however, caught you off guard? His hand remained on the salt bottle, arm still at your waist. "you've gotten thin," he mustered, peering down  at you. Your lips parted and cursed yourself for the water gathering in your tear glands.

You shifted to face him and your fists collided with the material of his shirt, clutching it in your grasp while you looked to your feet to collect your thoughts. Jay watched with no thoughts, bewildered at your shaken state. Just in time, your throat began to cave in.

You showed him your back, heaving up and down, the petals trailing up your throat and hitting your palm. You smacked your chest uncomfortably to stop the tractions to not let him suspect anything was out of order.

"you okay?" he queried, feeling the thumps of his feet getting closer to you, panicking as you collected blood and petals into your hand, the fear of him peeking it at your new high. He reached to your position and you scurried off in a haste towards the washroom. Passing by your jar of petals, you dropped them into the pot in a hurry as jay caught up to you.

Drowning the crimson in the sink you ran water on your hands, cutting the water supply and placing your wetted hands on the cold counter, panting. The heavy footsteps echoed and then soon were planted behind you. You gazed at his fallen front in the mirror. Why? Why did he look disheartened? Did he feel something for you after all?

He panned you around, caging you to the marbled counter, sealing in his arms with your chest by his, solely daring to search for any love in his eyes. Yanking the sleeve of your sweatshirt laid a spot of crimson from the viscous liquid. You mentally winced and set your sights away from him.

His finger glided to your chin and brought you towards his front, his palm resting on your cheek, "you're not okay, are you darling," he conveyed as your heart grumbled at the endeared name, a stray tear threatening to stain your cheek. "i've been unwell,"

The silence dawned on the two of you as he buried his hand in your hair, tugging down on it to tilt your head up, and his finger parting your nimble lips, the salty taste lingering in his mouth as he pressed down, and gave you a kiss. Under any circumstance than this, you'd relish the feeling but you felt sick with your throat itching.

Nonetheless, you played into his act of affection, gripping him further as his neck dipped to reach further in your cavern. Taking in what'd be the last time you'd ever meet his lips with such fever you attempted to feel the texture of his moist lips diving in and out. the pop sound loud and clear as you pulled him off of you. He settled his hand by your ear, his thumb giving you a false sense of security as he rested his forehead against yours.

"shall we get married?"

The falter in his facials was apparent and you felt your heart fall to your stomach. "marriage? what are you talking about, we're only 21," he missed, trying to play it cool.

"you know I love you right?" you did love him, you weren't lying but he didn't and you wouldn't let go of him till he said those harsh words himself.

His lack of reply set you off and you changed your blank face to that of despair, " you don't love me?" 

"i…"

You shoved him away, crinkling your eyes in downward crescents as tears peaked from your eyes, playing at his heart strings. You felt the similar aggression of anger pile in him as he rushed his breathing, brows furrowing deep and the same mouth you kissed parted to utter icy words..

"do you know how it feels to date the one you've known and cared for since you were child?! not once have I ever hurt you nor done anything to hurt and i never will but I can’t sleep at night looking at your unaware face that i settled to for work. It’d break my heart to break your’s but i can’t let up with this without feeling guilty for leading you on when i cannot bring myself to feel those sentiments of love— i just don’t love you like before! "

Though you knew it was coming, the actuality hurt so much more. The lines of him declining your love for him played repeatedly. Jay left the room and the house, slamming the front door to possibly never return again. You sobbed even harder than before, falling to the floor urging the feeling to succumb to die as you coughed up amounts of blood  and petals onto the floor in shambles.

iv. wither

April came as fast as March left with Jay slamming the door, never to return under any circumstance. You strongly believed he began living at his office unless one friend allowed him to stay over for an extended period of time. You, however, hadn't had any luck with getting better, accepting you would die soon.

Mustering any strength you conjured to get out of bed, meeting the carpeted floor where you'd spend hours staring at the ceiling with teary eyes. You were going to go down like this, despite your dreams and aspirations, this was how'd you succumb to death.

The sole motivation to sit by your canvas, that slowly came to picture, was the haunted expression in his front you could imagine ever so vividly. You meagre around the house to get your jar of thrown up petals, stained scarlet, quite a nice piece of decor to the vicinity though it'd be too bad that you'd be gone to not see it as one.

Frailly reaching for one petal, then another, you stuck them in carefully, the internal shaking refusing to seize as your breath turned shallow, leaving you gasping for air, overexerting yourself in finishing the piece. 

On the once pearly white canvas sat a portrait of jay through the lens of your antique camera where you stood a trail of your petals and blood mixed onto the canvas, increasing as they led to your situation behind the camera just like your dying self behind the canvas.

Finishing the painting, you felt the hot breath hit your tired out hands and brittle paint dipped fingers— the same fingers Jay would kiss to you sleep, ticking you into bed if you ran a fever— were also the ones that gripped to the head rest, giving to the growing tiredness that overcame you, turning to lie flat on your back.

The keys jingled in the near distance, jay slipping in through the door, watching as nothing had really moved around in the house. He contemplated on notifying you of his abrupt appearance, opting to slowly creep up the stairs. Unknown to you, you had started coughing again, the strength in your arms to cover your mouth non-existent.

Resulting in the blood coating you and the mattress in a painful fit of red as you sobbed heartbroken to yourself wondering where it went wrong, did he require more space, had you been more mindful would he still be at your side.

Jay stilled on hearing your heart wrenching sobs, the previous hesitance gone as he ran up the stairs and to your situation on the bed stained bed. Having forgotten about your coughing fit of blood through the apparent stress from the separation. 

His sight fell to the canvas in front of him greeting as you cough seized, your eyelids lugging over your glassed over orbs, jay getting to knees as he saw you covered in blood, his hand finding your paint ridden hand. You gave a weak chuckle, "if we ever meet again, I hope it works out then," you say, the diamonds leaving the comfort of your eyes and onto your crimson imposed self. 

Jay heaved from panic, "why didn't you tell me?!" He hurried exclaimed, his hand running down your arm to keep your burning vessel even warmer. Unbeknownst to him he'd been crying and you watched with low eyes close to shutting, your palm lifting up to his tear stricken cheek, "just know," you paused, shutting your eyes completely feeling the life get sucked out of your body. 

"i loved you."

He wandered to these fields for his lonesome mind to sing to some melody of a song you didn't know, caressing the petals of the varied and wilting flowers. You accompanied him with a sketchbook in hand, your hands at work, your ears to his humming and occasional tunes with no comments or interruptions. You had not a thread attached with his absolute, practical life, and that's what he grew to enjoy as he sang you sweet songs and admired the minimalist beauty of flowers for hours together before he vanished back the trail he hiked up.

A decade long later, he stood the same punctual, intellectual, stellar citizen as his facial features  matured and took a dark yet captivating bloom while he sobered from a teen to a young adult. Now the heir of his grandfather's company, he revelled in the success of his grandfather's business. To say he grew would be an understatement, rarely ever flashing you that lovable boyish grin, never to sing his silly little tunes in front of you again.

You weren't one to pry, years into your first ever relationship with your first love and beyond afraid to lose your loose yet stitched in place frail, threaded red heart the two of you share. The photobook stared upon you, urging you to reminisce about your uneventful past filled with mostly jay. The current times didn't get any exciting either, you painted and attended exhibitions, the usual smile carried on your peach tinted lips at the guests and those interested in buying your pieces.

Contrary to this, jay barely made it home, cooped up in his office all day everyday, allowing himself to come home merely upon completing his work. You didn't mind really, the two of you went out, spoke to each other often, and were happy. This while around, he had been distant for a week or two, his longest record of shutting you out till date. You figured he was exhausted mentally and gave him the space though you wished to circle in his arms and breath wistfully.

You veered your attention to the pages and stopped on one of jay, sat beneath the tree near your old, broken, rundown house, looking into the farther distance, admiring the view, and so were you at the time, etching each feature of his delicately put together face, ingraining it in your mind, taking out your then new but now ancient camera to capture the spectacle.

You grin at the photo stuck, your orbs drifting to the messy lyrics he'd written in english to match the mood of the moment, this particular one that of your favourite song till date, one that he used to sing you to sleep.

"what are you looking so fondly at," uttered jay whose presence you failed to recognise in the room, his exasperated expression making you almost coo at him. You patted on the bedding beside as he followed, crossing your painting that you'd left to dry for hours ere.

"our photo book," you replied gaily, surprised to see him speaking to you after weeks, instinctively reaching for his cheek and staring into his eyes to find the very night sky in them, to find them gleaming right at you, the type stars would beam before they went out. A mesmerising yet sad beauty.

His gaze flickered from your soulful eyes and he glued his sights to the photo and hummed in agreement, "i guess i've always looked this good," he finished the tire in his vocals evident with a slight snicker. You shifted closer to him on the bedding which you wrinkled in the process, "you always have," you completed, pulling him closer by the hand that cupped his cheek.

You drawled yourself up to his level, running your thumb back and forth on his soft skin while your other hand ran through his soft hair, watching as he watched you with this solemn look you couldn't put a finger on. You smiled wider and hovered your lips over his as you ultimately gave in to his alluring presence and pressed your soft lips to his in a desperate yet sweet manner.

He hummed from bewilderment and slinged an arm around your waist, inching the distance closer than possible, tilting his head further and into you as he danced with your lips. You pulled away and gasped, blinking as bliss hit you, wondering if it could get any better than this? You drew away and slotted your lips on his again, covering his frantic yet slow lips, kissing him passionately, emptying out your heartfelt sentiments in the shared motion. 

You climbed off and undid his tie and the first button of his dress shirt and told him to wash up, getting to your feet, fetching him comfortable clothes and a glass of water to drink. He changed into them after washing up and sat back down on the mattress, back pressed to the headboard, the glass coming in contact with his lips that stained yours not long ago.

He glugged the cool water down his throat and set the now empty glass on the bedside table, your hand ruffling his hair as he yearned for your lips to confirm his doubt, tugging down and setting his lips against yours to feel the emotion again as you relaxed into his warm touch after a long day. 

He separated the connection as a string of saliva drew apart and suspended, a sigh of what you thought was content from jay as he flopped to the soft matting underneath him. A pit settled in his stomach and he felt guilt. He chose to ignore the feeling and set his eyes to a close.

You joined him, clinging onto him, kicking on the blanket to yourself and snuggling into his shoulder with a grin. Jay forcefully shut his eyes with a wince he hoped you'd miss it and placed his hand on your waist. Jay pretended to sleep as you hiked up on your elbow, leaning to press a peck to his forehead and mutter, "i love you."

Truth be told, jay sighed out of worry than content.

Jan Look back, reminisce the times

ii. blossom

You gotten used to the sight of jays absence when you awoke from your prolonged slumber, even the days you rose as early as 8, he’d be out the door, bidding you goodbye as he tucked in the loop of tie and tighten it around the collar, patting you on the head before bolting out the door and zooming off in his vehicle.

He’s been distant but never avoiding, and that's what you felt like he was doing this time; avoiding. As painful as it was to accept the fact that he had been avoiding you for the past week was hurtful. Yes, he was out and at work, he hadn’t stepped foot in the house since a week, nor would he receive your calls, excusing himself through text messages shorter than 5 words.

Time you made him show up yourself. 

You spent almost the entire day prepping your setting, going as far as decorating and cooking something you saw online which ended up pretty decent. Now, all you needed was to lure jay like a wasp to light. You picked up your cell, dialling his number, your throat feeling rather scruffy as you coughed on the ringing line to soothe the uncomfortable sensation.

“did i work too hard for this, i feel my throat closing up,” you mumble, waiting for the line to connect, the mere automated voice blaring through your ear canal causing you to hang up and opt to text him. “come home, its an emergency,”

Not the best, but surely it’d do the trick, and in an hour's time, jay showed up, panting as he bolted the door open, “where's the fire!” he shouted, standing in the common room, across your resting figure on the couch. You yelped and got to your feet, rushing over and placing both hands over your heart, “here.”

His expression morphed from his initial shock to confusion and to anger. He should've seen it coming as it was February the 14th, Valentine's day. Discarding the tie to his fist, he stared you down with menacing eyes, making you gulp down the present discomfort in your throat, your fearful yet expectant orbs gazing into his raged one.

“i’m really trying to control myself,” “good, we haven’t even started,”

With his tongue poking the side of his cheek from annoyance, you led him to the backyard where a table was set from your preparation and he seemed surprised at the notion, and his mouth slitted open as you hauled the piping hot dish towards the meagre wobbling metal table that withheld the dishes well, allowing you to take a seat opposite of jay.

The look in his eyes was penetrating, feeling your throat close in more as you coughed uncontrollably prompting him to hand you a glass of water, glued to his seat as he observed you heave up and down before the hectic coughing subsided and you felt the air reach your nostril and travel without a hitch to your lungs.

“sorry, i, uh, made us dinner,” you conveyed, forcing a wide smile while overlooking your fit of spontaneous fits of coughing, “i can see that,” he responded sternly, beginning to serve the food onto both plates, his eyes not letting up the cold act for a millisecond, like he almost meant it.

You picked at your food, staring at him eat wordlessly, the irritation in your throat causing you to gag and wince every now and then before you mustered to pierce through the tension filled atmosphere, “did i do something wrong?” The resounding clang of the utensil to the plate made you straighten your back, “no, i’m just upset over the fact you had to lie to get me here,” he paused, drifting off into a daze, “i haven’t come home in a while, i know,”

He shifted away from your constraint, locking eyes with his meal and eating the plate clean, “you’ve gotten better at cooking,” he commented, shutting his eyelids and leaning back on the cold metal of the chair, waiting for you finish your respective meal, making you swallow down the larger chunks in haste. You stood to your feet, the ordeal leaving a metallic taste in your mouth. The chair scraped back, you collected the dishes and placed them in the sink, the unsettling pit in your stomach only digging deeper with the irking sensation in the back of your throat growing ratched.

You went to bed with a heavy heart, his back facing yours as he wordlessly drifted to slumber, leaving you to your consuming thoughts. Maybe, just maybe, he really was exhausted. You shouldn't have been so disapproving of him for his mental absence.

Either way, your plan was an absolute failure.

The sun rose inevitably and jay arose to his right, feet planted on the rugged flooring, remaining sat on the bedding, heaving a loud sigh. He peered over his back to sneak a peek at your asleep state. The way your eyes were clamped shut and your brows furrowed with a strong pout spoke enough of your nightmare and jay exhaled into his palms away from you.

He'd hate to break your heart but he'd hate to lead you on even more. He couldn't bring himself to feel the same anymore, his emotionality drained and his sentiments aside, he felt guilt to have wronged you. He felt like a shitty person every morning to face your innocent stature suffocating him in wallow. So, every morning, he left before you awoke to stop the aching in his wilting heart.

The dip in the mattress rises as he does, stepping disheartedly to the bathroom to start his mundane routine. The shower head shoots water as his hair dampens, his sole salty tears mixing with the overhead resource, tears drowning in silence. You stir awake with your throat suffocatingly sore to the point where swallowing water was excruciatingly painful.

The small clock on the bed side table ticked with faint clicks, the hour handle clocked at 7 with the longer needle on 40 as the splinter-like needle spun periodically. You coughed, finding it hard to breathe, the itching sensation increasing as you felt something will up your throat, your hand bracing your mouth in a clasp. 

Mustering out the strange discomfort inducing object, you coughed out a petite, white petal, accompanied with a sized spot of blood painting its own canvas— your palm, per se. Observing the viscous liquid the upside length of your hand, you begin to feel nauseous, ripping the blanket off you and grasping your neck from pain.

You separated the petal from the splash or crimson, clutching it in your free hand as jay made his way over to you, draped in a bathrobe, ushering your tained palm inspect. He grimaced at the sight of blood staining your palm, his thumb instinctively finding your cheek rubbing it of what he attempted to seem affectionate. 

Tears pricking your orbs, you urged forward and wrapped your arms around him merely to be held away from his hold with a jerk, making you gape clueless. "it'll stain," he reminded, though he'd pushed you for other reasons he couldn't have the guts to come clean too.

Wiping your eyes dry, you stepped away from him and washed away the substance while jay suited up for work. You left the premise and returned to where jay buttoned his shirt hastily. You strode up to him and finally found yourself in his hesitant hold, peering up to him with glossy eyes. 

He sighed into your face, his arms tightening around you as you hiked to his eye level in your tiptoes to press a peck to his lips. You approached forward and pecked his lips, to confirm your growing doubt. You readjusted to kiss him, parting your mouth only for him to pull you back once again with another excuse. 

"you haven't brushed your teeth yet," he delivered with a soft tone, running his hand down your bed hair. It stung. Not just your throat, your heart, years ago into your relationship you'd made out plenty of times with a nasty breath and none of you seemed to mind. He really was making… excuses. 

The flowers, the blood—him avoiding you, your fleeting touch— most importantly, he began to ignore your feelings for him. 

Jay was falling out of love with you.

iii. grow thorns

Desperate. That's what you felt coursing through your veins as you curled into a ball on the carpeted floor in the empty residence, jay long gone on a business trip to wherever. Upon your gruesome piecing together, you felt despair and spent most of your time wallowing in streams of tears.

It was March and you laid sick in bed, occasionally leaving to fulfil your regular duties as a human while completely neglecting physical activity and socialising, not like you were good at either but this case was extreme. The same boy you felt deeply connected to, the boy who made you understand what love felt like, the boy who showed you true love—which your parents always failed to accommodate— was also the boy who'd crumble your fragile beating soul to rubble.

Your first petals you coughed were once pea size petals that gradually turned into full fledged, grown petals, heaving up your trachea, branches growing in your lungs making it all the much harder for you to breathe. In arounv a week's time, was your anniversary with jay. It'd be foolish to think he'd just take you back like that after the answer of unrequited love stood from your lungs. 

Perhaps if he broke your heart a second time, you would be convinced and mercilessly succumb to the inevitable.

You kept the petals you threw to a side, setting up a fresh canvas and painting a blank later for white onto it. Unsure of what to paint, you stood contemplating what you were even doing in the first place but the thought of gifting it to him seemed motivating and so you began.

Strokes of wet paint slapped onto the once pearly white canvas, skilledly sketching with your brush the outline of your objects, filling in the remnants of white into the backdrop of the portrait. It wasn't over till it was, eventually over. The faint lines of your boyfriend became clear and so had your mind. You knew what your next change of plan would be.

Jay returned around two weeks later and by then your health had declined and the loneliness merely increased. Hesitant to speak to you, you took the hint and mainted your distance as well, only interacting when needed as he used the spare bedroom to rest. Indeed,.t hurt to think that he found it hard to even sleep next to you but you weren't going to take it till he uttered the words himself.

Then came your anniversary. The two of you had been great friends for four years and then dated for four and you'd like to say that you both were still going strong, though your current situation said all but that. You requested jay to help in making dinner for the while none of you spoke a word of the day's occasion.

You were at work chopping the vegetables as jay readied the base, sprinkling some spices and checking the flavouring every now and then all without saying a word to you. Your eyes travelled from the steaming stew to where he placed the spoon between his lips, a furrow creasing on his face, tongue clicking.

"salt," he mumbled, eyes drifting from around where he situated, then shifting to around you. The salt was placed beside the chopping board, and that meant it was across you, an arm's distance. Without much thought, he stepped closer to you and reached for the salt, his arm brushing past your waist, causing him to tense, his orbs darting to yours.

You solemnly watched his eyes grow from hesitate to panic to worry. Worry, however, caught you off guard? His hand remained on the salt bottle, arm still at your waist. "you've gotten thin," he mustered, peering down  at you. Your lips parted and cursed yourself for the water gathering in your tear glands.

You shifted to face him and your fists collided with the material of his shirt, clutching it in your grasp while you looked to your feet to collect your thoughts. Jay watched with no thoughts, bewildered at your shaken state. Just in time, your throat began to cave in.

You showed him your back, heaving up and down, the petals trailing up your throat and hitting your palm. You smacked your chest uncomfortably to stop the tractions to not let him suspect anything was out of order.

"you okay?" he queried, feeling the thumps of his feet getting closer to you, panicking as you collected blood and petals into your hand, the fear of him peeking it at your new high. He reached to your position and you scurried off in a haste towards the washroom. Passing by your jar of petals, you dropped them into the pot in a hurry as jay caught up to you.

Drowning the crimson in the sink you ran water on your hands, cutting the water supply and placing your wetted hands on the cold counter, panting. The heavy footsteps echoed and then soon were planted behind you. You gazed at his fallen front in the mirror. Why? Why did he look disheartened? Did he feel something for you after all?

He panned you around, caging you to the marbled counter, sealing in his arms with your chest by his, solely daring to search for any love in his eyes. Yanking the sleeve of your sweatshirt laid a spot of crimson from the viscous liquid. You mentally winced and set your sights away from him.

His finger glided to your chin and brought you towards his front, his palm resting on your cheek, "you're not okay, are you darling," he conveyed as your heart grumbled at the endeared name, a stray tear threatening to stain your cheek. "i've been unwell,"

The silence dawned on the two of you as he buried his hand in your hair, tugging down on it to tilt your head up, and his finger parting your nimble lips, the salty taste lingering in his mouth as he pressed down, and gave you a kiss. Under any circumstance than this, you'd relish the feeling but you felt sick with your throat itching.

Nonetheless, you played into his act of affection, gripping him further as his neck dipped to reach further in your cavern. Taking in what'd be the last time you'd ever meet his lips with such fever you attempted to feel the texture of his moist lips diving in and out. the pop sound loud and clear as you pulled him off of you. He settled his hand by your ear, his thumb giving you a false sense of security as he rested his forehead against yours.

"shall we get married?"

The falter in his facials was apparent and you felt your heart fall to your stomach. "marriage? what are you talking about, we're only 21," he missed, trying to play it cool.

"you know I love you right?" you did love him, you weren't lying but he didn't and you wouldn't let go of him till he said those harsh words himself.

His lack of reply set you off and you changed your blank face to that of despair, " you don't love me?" 

"i…"

You shoved him away, crinkling your eyes in downward crescents as tears peaked from your eyes, playing at his heart strings. You felt the similar aggression of anger pile in him as he rushed his breathing, brows furrowing deep and the same mouth you kissed parted to utter icy words..

"do you know how it feels to date the one you've known and cared for since you were child?! not once have I ever hurt you nor done anything to hurt and i never will but I can’t sleep at night looking at your unaware face that i settled to for work. It’d break my heart to break your’s but i can’t let up with this without feeling guilty for leading you on when i cannot bring myself to feel those sentiments of love— i just don’t love you like before! "

Though you knew it was coming, the actuality hurt so much more. The lines of him declining your love for him played repeatedly. Jay left the room and the house, slamming the front door to possibly never return again. You sobbed even harder than before, falling to the floor urging the feeling to succumb to die as you coughed up amounts of blood  and petals onto the floor in shambles.

iv. wither

April came as fast as March left with Jay slamming the door, never to return under any circumstance. You strongly believed he began living at his office unless one friend allowed him to stay over for an extended period of time. You, however, hadn't had any luck with getting better, accepting you would die soon.

Mustering any strength you conjured to get out of bed, meeting the carpeted floor where you'd spend hours staring at the ceiling with teary eyes. You were going to go down like this, despite your dreams and aspirations, this was how'd you succumb to death.

The sole motivation to sit by your canvas, that slowly came to picture, was the haunted expression in his front you could imagine ever so vividly. You meagre around the house to get your jar of thrown up petals, stained scarlet, quite a nice piece of decor to the vicinity though it'd be too bad that you'd be gone to not see it as one.

Frailly reaching for one petal, then another, you stuck them in carefully, the internal shaking refusing to seize as your breath turned shallow, leaving you gasping for air, overexerting yourself in finishing the piece. 

On the once pearly white canvas sat a portrait of jay through the lens of your antique camera where you stood a trail of your petals and blood mixed onto the canvas, increasing as they led to your situation behind the camera just like your dying self behind the canvas.

Finishing the painting, you felt the hot breath hit your tired out hands and brittle paint dipped fingers— the same fingers Jay would kiss to you sleep, ticking you into bed if you ran a fever— were also the ones that gripped to the head rest, giving to the growing tiredness that overcame you, turning to lie flat on your back.

The keys jingled in the near distance, jay slipping in through the door, watching as nothing had really moved around in the house. He contemplated on notifying you of his abrupt appearance, opting to slowly creep up the stairs. Unknown to you, you had started coughing again, the strength in your arms to cover your mouth non-existent.

Resulting in the blood coating you and the mattress in a painful fit of red as you sobbed heartbroken to yourself wondering where it went wrong, did he require more space, had you been more mindful would he still be at your side.

Jay stilled on hearing your heart wrenching sobs, the previous hesitance gone as he ran up the stairs and to your situation on the bed stained bed. Having forgotten about your coughing fit of blood through the apparent stress from the separation. 

His sight fell to the canvas in front of him greeting as you cough seized, your eyelids lugging over your glassed over orbs, jay getting to knees as he saw you covered in blood, his hand finding your paint ridden hand. You gave a weak chuckle, "if we ever meet again, I hope it works out then," you say, the diamonds leaving the comfort of your eyes and onto your crimson imposed self. 

Jay heaved from panic, "why didn't you tell me?!" He hurried exclaimed, his hand running down your arm to keep your burning vessel even warmer. Unbeknownst to him he'd been crying and you watched with low eyes close to shutting, your palm lifting up to his tear stricken cheek, "just know," you paused, shutting your eyes completely feeling the life get sucked out of your body. 

"i loved you."