Work Text:
Flowers. Even if wilted still beautiful to look at. They might remind you of a fond memory of yours. Someone giving you flowers, a garden you might have visited with your partner, or a small flower you might have noticed on the roadside making your day a little brighter.
What were flowers for Blade?
Suffering but also a blessing in disguise.
Blood soaked flowers a regular occurrence for the immortal man.
His hands frequently soaked with the red faded blooms.
At times he wondered if the blood was his or of the flowers.
But flowers don't bleed.
Everyday the blood served as a remainder that he lived.
But perhaps this disease was his undoing. Foolish optimism that had struck him.
Looking at you wasn't so painful anymore.
After all he was looking at someone he loved and also the one who had caused this.
It felt good for him. The one he loved would let him escape this miserable life finally.
You were the only thing that made him happy. Only one who made his wretched life a little bit better to live.
Unfortunately, although fortunately for the immortal, it was time. He was on the verge of death. The feeling familiar as he had felt it countless times.
Coughing up the last of this withered blood soaked blossoms, he breathed his last alongside them.
The morbidly beautiful sight of blood intertwined with the flowers, a sign of a fruitless love.
But alas immortality is a curse, which cannot be lifted by even unrequited love.