#aikazu

Niou grabs for the forget-me-nots in his bathroom trash can, meticulously cleaning them of his own blood. They’re a little crumpled, but it’s the thought that counts, no? They mean a lot to him, after all.

The flowers in his lungs haven’t magically disappeared just yet, but, placing the tiny, blue petals on Oliver’s grave, beside everyone else’s giant bouquets of flowers that mean nothing personal, he knows it’ll only take a few more weeks for him to cough out the remainders.