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Shopping with Anika was always a bit of a hassle. Not because she inherently bought a lot, although the bags in Strato’s hands spoke for themself. It was a hassle because they would go from place to place searching after some clue or another to find a new store selling proper vintage clothes to her taste. It was a wild goose chase that would lead them down those second hand stores she always frequented already for the clothes she adored so much. He wasn’t even sure if they found the store they were looking for today.
The good thing was always watching her try on more and more clothes, especially the pieces he picked out. She looked radiant, sacred in a way that made him forget everything, even breathing. It took effort to keep his jaw from falling, no matter what she wore. Something inside him felt rotten, squeezing around his heart and lungs painfully, forcing him to hide away with a cough. He was lucky she didn’t notice how he was staring at her, like she was a flame and he was a moth getting lost.
His favorite piece of the day was a deep red bow. A small but versatile piece she could wrap around her hair, or wrist, or waist or even her neck. Something that would lead his hands to brush against her skin, running over the lines of her implants so he could untie her, like she was a gift to be unwrapped. A gift he would so carefully unwrap until the last thing would be that bow, contrasting beautifully against her skin. He could even replace the space the fabric covered with another red ring of bites directly into her skin, marking her-
The familiar scratchy feeling of a cough dragged him out of his thoughts again. Violent heaves coming over him and one of his hands raising with the bag still in grip to cover his mouth. Anika, who’s been chattering and spacing out, turned to him in worry and tried to help him by patting on his back. Once the fit ended the hand in front of his mouth balled into a fist and he readjusted his grip on the bags. He waved her concern off, honest to god he doesn’t even remember what he said that ended up reassuring her but she went back to whatever she was chattering about and he went back to listening intently and hanging to her every word.
It was when the stinging pain in his chest didn’t end that he decided to do something. Nothing major. Walking a step or two behind Anika and making sure she wasn’t really paying attention to snoop, he pulled out a phone to send a quick message. His eyes glided over the last few messages before he sent a quick new one.
[Strato] Happened again.
The answer didn’t take too long. Of course his brother would be interested. Perhaps worried. Even for Strato it was hard to tell sometimes
[Val] Big or small one?
[Val] Doesn’t matter
[Val] Try to preserve a sample. A living one.
He didn’t bother to reply to the message, pocketing the device again. He looked around the streets. Another good thing about going out with Anika was he could survey places. He could walk with her for a while and just get a glimpse of how everything looked in the streets, sometimes walking off to make sure they weren’t being tailed by people that weren’t supposed to be tailing them. He’d send his men to clean anything up. Strato avoided getting any blood on himself during their outings. He didn’t want the dark red to give him away.
The scratch was getting a bit too much however. As much as he loved to be around her, there were certain things too low for her eyes to see. He almost playfully bumped into her shoulder and with a low voice started to speak.
“I think it’ll rain soon again, we should get going, Annie” her pout was precious, really, it made his rotten mind go all kinds of places every time. Before she could complain and try to argue he spoke up again with a chuckle “We’ll go out again soon, but you don’t want your new stuff to get wet, do you?”
It didn’t take much to get her to agree, even if she was grumbling about it. As much as he didn’t like her frowning, he had to admit it was cute and he quickly got her back to rambling about everything and nothing. He set the bags inside the car and shook his hand he coughed in earlier, subtly getting rid of something crushed up.
Strato made sure she got home safe. He held her a moment longer than necessary in the embrace when they bid adieu and tried to preserve her scent in his memory for later. There was an itching in his throat the moment she left. It was a wonder he managed to hold it back until he made it into his apartment.
The second the door closed behind him he fell to his knees and started coughing again. Much worse than the fit he had earlier, it made his body tremble and his shoulders shake. His throat felt raw, like it was being scratched open by the thorns that have grown higher. At least he could swear they have. During his last major fit it was only his lungs that were being stabbed by the thousands of little pricks.
He learned that he was right, when the first petals fell from his lips. It was a cruel irony, how the dead flowers had deep red patches from his blood on them. He read once, ages ago, that red roses were flowers that symbolize true and deep love. He remembered the red in the image would suit his Anika perfectly, her smile would be divine. The red of his blood on the long wilted gray however was a mockery. A mockery of his feelings and of his pain.
He wanted to stomp them to dust, but couldn’t even get back up to his feet. Thirteen new roses joined the mess of decay littering his floor. Thirteen more that proved how utterly useless he was, because not even his love could create something alive.
He sent another text.
[Strato] None living.