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A loud fit of coughing erupts in the previously quiet room. A flood of petals dropped to the floor in a puddle of blood. Ike had been pining for the mafia boss for years, only to not be noticed. The severity of the flower in the novelist’s lungs was near fatal now.
Continuing the situation at hand, this had been going on for years. At first it was a minor hindrance to his everyday life, but fate isn’t as nice as that.
Luca had returned to their shared apartment sooner than the other had expected, quickly trying to clean himself up from the blood dripping out of his mouth before the other could become worried about his state.
Going ahead to greet the boss home, Ike hadn’t noticed the minor, yet still noticeable bloodstain on his clothes. A fatal mistake.
“Tadaima!” The blond shouted
“Okaerinasai, Luca.” Waking out of the hallway that led to their rooms, novelist greeted him with a sickeningly sweet grin that he had always put on, as to hide his self, his true self. The one that loved the boss, but would never be loved back.
Luca’s eyes widened as he noticed the tiny bloodstain on the other, Luca was used to seeing blood as part of his job as a mafia boss. It wouldn’t be uncommon for him to comeback covered in the blood of others, but as for the novelist, he didn’t have any good reason, so he thought.
“Hey Ikey, you okay? Theres blood on you.” Genuine concern in his voice, it sparked emotions in Ike that he hasn’t felt in years.
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine, I just accidentally scratched myself earlier. It’s nothing.” Lies. The novelist knew Luca didn’t like him the way he liked Luca. Guilt and anxiety built up inside him.
Quickly dismissing himself from the conversation as he felt the revolting feeling of the mixture of blood and flowers crawling up his throat.
Minutes passed as Luca cleaned the blood left over on him from the mission he had completed earlier. A bit suspicious of the claim Ike had made earlier, Luca had decided that it was best if he would bring Ike something and check on the supposed “injury” Ike claimed to have.
He made his way to Ike’s room and knocked on the door.
No response.
He knocked yet again.
“Ike?”
No response.
He tried opening the door, to the blond’s dismay, it was locked. Though not a challenge for the esteemed mafia boss, the lack of response was concerning enough to panic.
He dashed to find lock picking materials, knowing Ike was okay was his the only thing currently on his mind.
Hurriedly trying to open the door, which caused him to mess up and have to restart his task multiple times.
Click
It was unlocked, the purple-eyed boss rushed to open the door.
Oh no. no, no. It could’t be. This couldn’t happen.
There was the blue haired man. On the floor. Laying in a puddle of blood and petals. His own blood. Petals from his own lungs. The novelist’s lifeless body lay there cold. Weeping. Tear stains still prominent on his face.
Luca shouted. How could this be, Ike never said anything about this, how? How could Luca be so, so blind. To not notice.
Anything.
If only he had noticed sooner.
This wouldn’t have happened.