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“My brother told me that he’s gonna kill himself tonight. With a whole bottle of Prozac or a shiny kitchen knife. He said when he’s gone I can have his Nintendo 64. I can play it all night sitting on the basement floor.”
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Ow. Everything hurt.
Phainon opened his eyes weakly, his body racked with coughs. How long has he been coughing? 5 minutes? An hour? Two hours? It wasn’t quite clear anymore. Weakly, he pushed himself up from his spot on the ground, stumbling as he stood.
“Fuck..” He cursed, one hand pressed against the wall, his head swimming. He glanced towards the toilet, before tearing his gaze away from it. His one hand pressed the toilet lid down, letting it fall.
“Snowy?”
Phainon turned. Did he not close the door? Again?
Tribbie stood in the doorway, flower crown in hand, looking up at him worriedly. In an instant, Phainon was on his knees. He wiped the edge of his mouth with his sleeve, placing a hand on the child’s shoulder. He laughed, his voice raspy, hoarse from throwing up.
“Haha, Tribbie. Don’t worry, I’m fine,” He smiled, as if to prove his point. Tribbie didn’t move. Instead, she looked away from his face, lowering her voice to a quiet whisper.
“Trianne and Trinnon are worried. Mother too. She-”
“Mother? What’s wrong?”
Tribbie didn’t look up. Instead, she reached into a pocket, retrieving a small piece of paper. She handed it to him.
Letting go of the child’s shoulder, Phainon opened the folded paper gently. Inside, scrawled in neat handwriting (their mother’s, probably), was an Admissions form.
“Okhema Hospital..” He murmured, his gaze trailing over the form. He spotted the signatures at the bottom. His mother’s, alongside someone else’s, and he faltered. He looked up at Tribbie. “She’s sending me away?”
Tribbie hesitated, but finally, she nodded. “Trianne found it yesterday. We..we don’t want you to leave.”
The red string around Phainon’s pinky pulled taught. Tribbie’s gaze drifted to it, and she took the Admission’s form back, pocketing it yet again. She continued on, “But..Trinnon also had a dream yesterday. She said..”
The girl hesitated, and glanced around. She stepped closer, her voice low, akin to a whisper. “She said that your soulmate’s there.”
Phainon froze. Soulmate?
He stared down at the red string tied nicely on his finger. The small bunny-eared loops staring back at him, mockingly. Taking a deep breath, he looked up from his finger, shaking his head, plastering the smile back on his face.
“It’s alright, Tribbie. I’ll talk with Mother. Maybe..maybe she and I can compromise.” He watched as Tribbie’s face brightened up again. She nodded, already turning and running off.
As the girl disappeared, Phainon sat down on the bathroom floor, leaning against the cold tile wall. He sighed, raising his left hand slightly, looking at the red string around his pinky finger.
Soulmates. What a joke. 26 years of waiting, of watching everyone around him get soulmates. Even Anaxagoras had gotten his soulmate already. Something about soulmates not needing to be romantic. The man got a Dromas as a soulmate, for Aeon’s sake.
He inspected the red string around his pinky once more. Still tied neatly, still unable to be removed. He let out a small cough.
Slowly, Phainon stood up, his palm pressed against the wall, letting his left arm fall back to his side. He glanced towards the toilet, flushing it and leaving the bathroom, his steps wobbly, his head foggy. Slowly, he made his way back to his bedroom, flopping down onto his messy bed, dried blood still staining the bedsheets. He let out a small groan, burying his head in the pillow.
He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to go elsewhere other than home either. Turning his head to the side, Phainon peeked out from the pillow, staring at the red string on his pinky.
But if it meant seeing his soulmate, it’d be worth it, no?
The red string pulled taut again. It strained against his pinky, the string digging into his finger. Almost instantly, a sharp pain shot through him, and he let out a groan, curling up in bed.
“Agh..what the fuck..” He grumbled, clenching his left hand into a tight fist, his nails digging into the skin of his palm. He shut his eyes, tears already welling at the sides. What the hell was his soulmate doing?
He tugged hard on the string, and finally, it stopped. Slowly, he breathed a sigh of relief, unclenching his fist, slowly opening his eyes. His breathing was laboured, shaky, and he wiped the sides of his eyes, drying his tears.
It couldn’t be time yet, could it?
He glanced towards the door to his bedroom, giving the string an experimental tug. A few moments of silence ensued, with nothing else happening to the string.
Good.
Slowly, he stood up, managing to stay up for long enough. He slowly moved towards the door, following the red string laying on the ground. He pressed a hand against the wall, following the string down the hallways of the house, down the staircase, stopping at the front door. He cleared his throat, calling out.
“Tribbie, I’m going. I’ll be back before nightfall!” He didn’t wait for an answer, slipping on his shoes, following the string, the door shutting behind him.
It was a route he had followed countless times before. He followed it once when he was 5, curious about the new string that had sprouted around his pinky finger. He followed it when he was 10, after a bad day at school. He followed it when he was 18, when he had had enough of hospitals or doctors.
He never reached the end of the string. Every time, he gave up halfway, too tired to follow the string any longer.
As he neared the end of the block, he brought his hand away from the wall, taking an experimental step. When he didn’t fall, he smiled.
This would be the last time, probably.
He took a deep breath, starting on the walk. As he walked, he kept his eyes glued to the ground, though the string stayed in his peripheral vision. As it rounded around a corner, he turned, continuing to follow as it went through some chainlink fence. Other strings overlapped and crossed its path, but to him, his string stayed bright, glowing faintly in the dark.
He looked up at the fence. It was high, but not impossible to cross. Looking around, he spotted a few crates. Neatly stacked up, akin to a staircase. He hobbled towards them, taking a step onto a crate.
His legs felt heavy, his breathing growing laboured as he climbed. Once at the top of the fence, he stepped onto the shaky chains, letting out a deep breath, before jumping down, his shoes hitting the ground with a loud ‘thud’.
His feet hurt. But that didn’t stop him. Mostly because something else did.
His head pounded, and he hobbled over to a nearby brick wall, leaning against it weakly, his nails gripping one of the large bricks as he keeled over, coughing and retching. Blood came out of his mouth, splattering onto the ground with small ‘splats’. He groaned, using his sleeve to wipe at his eyes, clearing his vision.
He coughed a little more, before finally, he straightened up as much as he could, continuing on his journey, sticking to the wall as he walked, just for support.
It had been 21 years since the string appeared, but even then, even with all the changes, the route the string took stayed constant. Why wasn’t his soulmate moving?
“Ah!”
He collided with someone. Looking up from the ground, he blinked. The girl in front of him stared at him, silent, before holding onto his body.
“Phainon.”
Uh oh.
Phainon blinked, and he was suddenly face-to-face with Castorice. The girl stared at him quietly, her free hand grabbing at his arm, already dragging him away. The string lengthened as he walked, Castorice dragging him back the way he came.
Phainon stopped in his tracks, yanking his wrist arm, rubbing at it. “Let go of me.”
Castorice turned to look at him, a plastic bag in one hand, the other letting go of his arm.
“You’re not supposed to be out, and you know that.”
“Well- yeah, but I was doing perfectly fine.” Rolling his eyes, Phainon grumbled, looking back to the string. The sudden movement made his head swim, and suddenly, he was blacking out. The last thing he heard was Castorice yelling his name, before everything went dark.
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When he awoke, he was laying in bed, with his very unhappy siblings next to him. Tribbie sat next to the bed, while Trianne paced around and Trinnon slept next to him, curled up. Noticing him finally awake, Trianne came over, standing on her tip-toes to address him.
“Snowy! You shouldn’t have been outside.” She huffed, getting off her tip-toes, crossing her arms.
Phainon sighed, bringing one hand up, letting it fall onto his face. “I’m fine, aren’t I?”
Tribbie looked up from her hands, a solemn look on her face. “I..guess..but Cas had to drag you all the way here..and she..”
Tribbie glanced towards Trianne, who started yelling once again. “She told Mother! So now you’re being sent away earlier!”
Despite all the yelling, Trinnon stayed asleep next to him. Phainon hummed in response, turning in bed to face the wall. He let out a small sigh, his voice a small grumble.
“Yeah, I know, I know..”
It went silent for a while, before Trianne finally sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. She huffed. “We don’t want you to go away.”
Turning to look at her, Phainon smiled, a small laugh escaping his lips. He laid back down, his back against the mattress. “Yeah? It’s okay, I’ll be back before you know it.”
Trianne seemed satisfied with his answer. She glanced towards Tribbie, who was still quietly pressing her indexes together, then at Trinnon, who was asleep.
She got off the bed, grabbing Tribbie’s arm. “Fine! Tribbie and I are going out.”
“Hmnf. Sure.” Phainon smiled, bringing his hand back up, letting his arm cover his eyes.
What a traitor.
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“You doing okay over here?”
Phainon hummed in response, turning away from the window he had been staring out of, meeting face-to-face with a man. Pale skin, green hair tied into a low ponytail that fell over his shoulder, eyepatch over his left eye. Phainon almost decked him in the face.
“Anaxagoras.”
Anaxa smirked, straightening up. “What, didn’t expect me?”
Rolling his eyes, Phainon grumbled. Glancing at the red string on his pinky, Anaxa chuckled, looking down at the man sitting in the armchair in front of him.
“Haven’t found your dear soulmate yet?”
“Oh for Aeon’s sake..”
“You’re just jealous.”
“Go away.”
Anaxa shook his head, pressing an index finger to his chin. “Hmnh. Except I can’t do that, can I? I’m your doctor.”
“Pft. Whatever.” Looking away, Phainon stood up from the armchair, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He followed Anaxagoras deeper into the hospital, the green hair man looking far too pleased about the current situation.
As they approached a staircase, Phainon stopped.
The string went up the staircase?
He stared at it, stopping where he was, suddenly very aware of the thin red string around his pinky. Noticing his hesitation, Anaxa turned to look at him. His gaze flicked to the red string around his pinky, tracing it along the floor.
Seeing how it went up a staircase, he smiled, walking a small distance away, his eyes following it carefully.
“Oh would you look at that? Your soulmate’s here.”
He smiled, and Phainon quickened his pace, chasing after him, his cheeks turning a bright shade of red. “Shut it, you.”
Anaxagoras ignored him, instead leading him up the staircase. The red string stopped, moving along the second floor, entering a room at the end. Anaxa, looking way too pleased with himself, turned back towards him, already leading him in the direction of the red string.
“Your soulmate’s in your room. Imagine that.”
“Stop it. It’s not funny.” Phainon grumbled, but he followed the man in front of him.
Anaxa shrugged. “I think it’s funny. Especially since the man inside the room doesn’t seem like someone you’d date.”
“You can’t judge me. You have a Dromas as a soulmate.”
“Soulmates don’t have to be romantic, y’know?”
“Yeah, so my soulmate might just be a really good friend.”
“Don’t make me laugh.”
“Hmpf.” Phainon stopped outside the room, as Anaxagoras chuckled, waving a ‘goodbye’ to him.
Anaxa smiled, already turning and walking away. “Don’t die today, got it?”
Phainon rolled his eyes. Once Anaxa was out of sight, he grabbed the door handle, twisting the knob gently, peeking into the room.
Holy Aeons. That was one shirtless man.
Sat on a bed next to the window was a man, muscular, blonde hair which faded into a deep red at the ends. The man turned to look at him, and Phainon paused.
Was he really shirtless? In an air conditioned hospital room?
Phainon cleared his throat, entering the room, shutting the door behind him gently. The man gave him a curt nod, turning back to the window, as Phainon went over to an empty bed, sitting down on it.
He looked down at the red string on the ground, following it carefully. It connected to the man’s ring finger, glowing faintly. With a small hum, Phainon spoke, raising his voice slightly, just loud enough to be audible in the small room.
“So..I guess we’re soulmates, huh?” He smiled, trying to play it cool.
It wasn’t cool.
The man turned to face him, his gaze flicking to the red string, then at Phainon’s finger. “Guess so,” He grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning back against the pillows of the bed.
A small moment of awkward silence passed between them, before the man spoke again, “The name’s Mydeimos. Call me Mydei.”
Phainon nodded, outstretching his hand. “Phainon. Call me..Phainon, I guess.”
Mydei stared down at his hand, before reaching out to shake it. “Amazing.” He mumbled, moving back to his own bed.
Did he really not care?
Something in Phainon snapped, and his smile dropped. He leaned back against the pillows on his bed, raising his left arm, turning it around as he stared at the string.
“What’s your problem?” He grumbled.
The man on the bed next to him turned, raising an eyebrow.
“What?”
“I mean, what was your deal with pulling it so much last week?”
“Hmnh.” The man went quiet for a while. He looked up at the ceiling, his right index finger tapping against his left arm.
“Right. Just got hurt, is all.”
“Huh?”
Mydei turned to look at him again, his finger stilling against his arm.
“You heard me.”
Phainon groaned, his arm falling back against the bed, landing with a small ‘thump’. He looked at the man, specifically, his shirtless body.
“Why’re you shirtless?” Tilting his head to the side, Phainon stared at the man’s arm.
Mydei didn’t respond for a while. Finally, he grumbled, “No reason.”
“Hmnh. Whatever.” After a while of staring, Phainon looked away, staring up at the ceiling in the room, and a comfortable silence fell between them.
Mydei glanced at Phainon, then looked back out the window. He lowered his voice, akin to a small whisper. “What are you in for?”
Phainon turned, blinking once, twice. He finally shrugged, “Cancer.” He said calmly, as if it were just an everyday thing.
Mydei nodded, shifting slightly to get more comfortable in bed. “Same. What is it specifically?” He asked, still staring out the window, uninterested. “I have spinal cancer.”
Phainon nodded. He looked down at his hands, then at Mydei. “Lung cancer.”
Finally, Mydei let out a small chuckle, turning to look at Phainon. “Guess we’re both screwed, huh? Damned by the Aeons.”
Phainon chuckled. Somehow, talking with Mydei, even for serious subjects, seemed comfortable, as if they had been friends for a long time. Maybe in a past life?
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“What’re you reading?” Phainon looked up from the book in his hands, meeting Mydei’s gaze. He shut the book, sliding it under the pillow.
“Nothing important.” He shrugged.
Mydei narrowed his eyes, moving to sit on the edge of his bed, his form slightly hunched around one of the clean white pillows. “Seems pretty important to you.”
Phainon didn’t reply. Mydei glanced towards the pillow, where the book was hidden under. He opened his mouth, about to say something, before he was (rudely) cut off.
“Snowy!”
The door burst open, and in came Phainon’s siblings. Tribbie was on him first, giving him a tight hug, while Trianne followed after, climbing onto his bed to hug him as well. Trinnon came in last, looking around, before choosing to just settle on the edge of his bed.
Tribbie clung to him tightly, looking up at him with large, teary eyes. “Snowy! You didn’t come back, why didn’t you come back?”
Trianne followed right after, her face pressed against Phainon’s stomach, squeezing him tightly. “Trinnon said you’d never return!”
Trinnon turned to look at him, then quietly averted her gaze. Her gaze flicked to Mydei, who was looking at the scene, confusion written all over his face.
There was Phainon, laying in bed, as Trianne and Tribbie clung to him, refusing to let go, all while Trinnon stared at him quietly. Suddenly feeling out of place, he cleared his throat, squeezing the pillow slightly. “Your..siblings?” He asked, his voice quiet as Trinnon stared at him.
Phainon turned his head slightly to look at him, letting out a small cough. He gently patted Trianne and Tribbie’s heads, making them loosen their grip around him. He laughed, “Yeah, they’re my younger sisters.”
Tribbie turned to look at Mydei, blinking back the tears from her eyes. She then turned to Phainon. “Snowy! Who’s he? Is it your soulmate? Is it?” She questioned, her voice rising in pitch with every word. Phainon smiled, ruffling her hair.
“He is. He’s Mydeimos. Or Mydei.” He said, a small smile on his face. Tribbie and Trianne shared a look, before Trianne reached out towards Trinnon, tapping her shoulder. The three stared at each other for a moment, nodding, probably doing some triplet telepathy.
Finally, Trinnon murmured, “De seems really weird..” Mydei froze. He stared at Trinnon, then glanced up at Phainon, then looked at Trinnon again. Phainon chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, Mydei. They have nicknames for everyone.”
Mydei nodded slowly. He flopped back down onto the bed, his back pressed against the mattress as he stared up at the ceiling. “Your siblings seem really nice. I’m jealous.”
Phainon laughed, regretting the decision almost immediately when he coughed. He turned away from the three girls, a hand over his mouth as he tried to recover from the coughing fit. When he did, he looked back at Mydei, a hand resting on Trianne’s head, ignoring how she had a hand pressed to his chest, as if to feel his heartbeat.
“Haha, I guess. Do you have siblings, Mydei?”
Mydei hummed in response, squeezing the pillow, still staring up at the ceiling. “Yeah. She’s named Hyacine. Anaxa’s teaching assistant.”
Phainon gasped. Since when did Anaxagoras have students? He asked, “Anaxa’s assistant?” Trinnon turned to him, nodding.
“Naxy teaches at the University part-time. Cinny’s always helping us when we go visit him, too.” Tribbie and Trianne nodded, as if confirming their sister’s claim.
Tribbie smiled, and Trianne yelled out, “Cinny’s always there when Naxy starts talking about weird things!” Tribbie added on, “Yeah! One moment he’ll be talking about his Dromas and the other, he’ll be talking about weird theories! He’s super weird!”
Phainon laughed, glancing over at Mydei, making no effort to sit up. Tribbie turned to Mydei, finally letting go of her brother, and Trianne followed after. “De? Are you okay?”
What followed was what Phainon could only describe as a pained groan from Mydei. Mydei let out a low groan, his fingers digging into the mattress. He sighed, resigned, “It’s fine. I’ll go back to normal later.”
Trianne wasn’t convinced, placing her hands on her hips, wanting to retort. However, Trinnon shook her head. She grabbed onto Tribbie and Trianne’s wrists, getting off the bed and leaving the room, bringing them along with her, leaving Phainon and Mydei alone in the room, together.
When the door clicked shut, Mydei let out a small grunt of pain, slowly sitting up in bed. He leaned against the headboard of his bed, laying on his side. “Haah..when are you going to tell them?”
Phainon turned to look at him. He was shirtless (because of course he was), but he looked exhausted. Turning to look down at his hands, Phainon shook his head.
“Not yet. I can’t give them bad news right now.”
“You know that’ll only make it worse later in the future, right?”
Phainon chucked, letting his fingers curl inwards, his hands forming into fists, before he opened them again, his palm facing the ceiling. “I know. I just want them to feel hope for now.”
Mydei sighed, moving his legs onto the bed, before flopping onto his back. He didn’t reply, and for a while, neither of them spoke.
Finally, Mydei broke the silence. “You’re being really mean to them, y’know?”
Phainon nodded, but he didn’t reply.
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“Mydei.” Phainon smiled, hiding a gift behind his back. He sat down on the chair next to Mydei’s bed, looking down at the man excitedly.
As Mydei opened his eyes, Phainon grinned, holding out his gift. “Happy birthday,” he whispered, setting the gift down next to him. Mydei raised an eyebrow, picking it up, gently tearing open the wrapping paper.
“You know that book you told me about? Something something..about some warrior who saved Amphoreus, or something..I found it!” Phainon continued on, watching excitedly as Mydei finally tore open the last layer of wrapping paper, and a thick book flopped down onto his chest. Barely reacting, Mydei let out a breath, a smile forming on his face.
“You really found it? And I thought it was sold out.”
“Anaxagoras had an extra copy.”
“Really? What other weird things does he have?”
Taking the question as a sign to continue, Phainon smirked, his voice a low whisper as he listed things off in his head. “Hmnh..let’s see..Dromas pajamas, Dromas plushies..he just has Dromas everything.”
Letting out a small laugh, Mydei picked the book up gently, setting it on the nightstand. “No wonder his soulmate was a Dromas.”
Phainon smiled. “Yeah. No wonder.” He glanced down at the red string tied tight around his pinky finger, then up at Mydei again.
“Mydei,” He started, clenching his hand into a fist before opening it again. He watched as the man on the bed turned to look at him. “Do you think our soulmate bond is platonic or romantic?” He asked, his hand trailing closer, his fingers intertwining with Mydei’s.
Looking down at their intertwined hands, Mydei chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “What, you’re asking me that now? Even with your hand around mine like this?” He smirked, raising up his arm, as if showing Phainon their hands.
Phainon blushed. “W- well- friends hold hands a lot too. We might just be friends.” He stammered out, looking away, trying (and failing) to wipe the blush off his face.
Mydei, amused, shifted on the bed, leaning in closer to the white-haired male. “Well, I’ll ask you then. Phainon, do you want it to be platonic or romantic?”
Turning to look back at Mydei, Phainon faltered, his breath catching in his throat. He swallowed, his voice managing to be just steady enough. “Romantic, I guess. I’ve waited a long time.”
Satisfied, Mydei laid back down on the bed with a small ‘thud’. “Romantic it is, then.” He let their hands fall back onto the bed together.
It took a moment for Phainon’s brain to catch up. When it did, he blinked, staring down at Mydei. “Does this mean we’re dating now?” He questioned, pointing at himself, then at Mydei.
Mydei glanced towards him, then looked back up at the ceiling. “It does. What, don’t want to date me?”
Phainon shook his head, and Mydei smirked. “It’s settled then. We can stay together. Until we get better.”
Get better?
Phainon stared at him incredulously. Get better? How? Mydei could barely even get up anymore, and it was getting harder for him to breathe. He swallowed, nodding his head quietly, holding himself back from ruining the moment.
“Sounds good,” He offered, his voice too weak, too shaky for his preference.
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“Phainon.”
Sitting up in bed, Phainon turned to look at Mydei. He tilted his head to the side, slipping off his bed, making his way over to the other bed, sitting down on the edge of it. His hand found Mydei’s quick, and he gently intertwined their fingers.
Mydei smiled, turning his head, looking up at Phainon. “You’re such a hopeless romantic.”
A gasp escaped Phainon’s lips, and he retracted his hand just as quickly. “You—” Mydei cut him off.
“What’s your favourite flower?” He asked, looking up at the pristine white ceiling.
Phainon coughed, letting out a small sigh, falling backwards to lay on Mydei’s bare stomach.
“You call me romantic when you’re asking about flowers?”
“Just answer the question.”
Phainon laughed, though it sounded weak. He went quiet for a moment, thinking long and hard about the question. “Sunflowers,” he finally answered, his hands resting on his stomach, one over the other.
Mydei laughed. “You’re such a child.” He muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Phainon to catch it. Phainon smiled, turning his head, catching Mydei’s gaze.
“You’re the one who asked.”
“I expected something more romantic from a hopeless romantic like you.”
Sitting up on the bed, Phainon gave Mydei’s shoulder a playful punch. “Yeah? What’s your favourite flower, then?”
“Hmnh.” Mydei hummed, tapping his indexes against each other. “A Gladiolus.”
“Really?” Phainon asked, staring down at Mydei, puzzled. “A Gladiolus?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. Just..weird, I guess.” He shrugged, averting his gaze, looking towards the opposing wall. “Never took you for the flower type. What, going to give me a flower once we’re out?”
A small silence fell between them, before Mydei hummed. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
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“Mydei.” Phainon whispered, sitting on the edge of Mydei’s bed, staring down at his lap. “You’re a hypocrite.”
He half-expected the usual groan Mydei gave, or the gentle squeeze of his hand, but nothing came. All that followed was silence.
He continued, “You’re doing what I did to them. Just..worse.” He mumbled, watching as the faint glow of the red string around his finger dimmed slowly.
“I don’t like it when you do that.” He curled his fingers, forming a fist, before uncurling them again.
He laughed, letting out a small cough mid-way. “You’re cruel, Mydeimos.”
The red string around his finger flickered weakly, before finally, it disappeared. He looked up at Mydei, shifting on the bed slightly so he was right next to him. He smiled, using a hand to trace Mydei's tattoos.
“You’re so weird. Why don’t you ever wear shirts?” He questioned. This time, he didn’t expect anything in response. Mydei’s body was cold under his finger, and his smile dropped slightly.
“Mydei..” He muttered, turning back to look down at his hands. “I think that you’re the greater coward between us.”
He stared down at his wrists, letting out a small sigh. He laid down across Mydei’s body, his head resting on Mydei’s chest, looking up at him. “Mydeimos, would you blame me if I wanted to see you again?”
When nothing happened, Phainon directed his gaze towards the nightstand. He got up from his spot on the bed, moving towards it. Picking up the pen perched nicely on a piece of paper, he sat down on the edge of the bed, next to Mydei, taking a deep breath.
Just hit the ulnar artery. It’s fine. No pressure.
Phainon stared down at his arm, turning it over, his palm facing upwards. He clicked the pen, and the metal tip appeared almost immediately, shining in the bright light of the hospital.
He raised his arm high, his hand wrapped around the pen, gripping it tightly, bringing it down quickly. The sharp tip broke skin easily, puncturing in deep. For a moment, Phainon regretted it, but he carried on, yanking the pen out, blood already trickling down his arm.
“Snowy? Naxy said that—” Phainon looked up. Standing in the doorway of the room was a (very) horrified Tribbie. Her gaze darted to his arm, and she let out a scream. “Snowy!” She turned and ran. “Trianne! Trinnon! Snowy! He- he just-!”
His head swam, and he pressed his bleeding hand against the mattress, letting out a pained groan. As footsteps neared the room, he collapsed forwards, his body hitting the ground, the cool surface of the floor contrasting with the heat of the blood. His vision darkened, and he let out a small smile, before everything around him disappeared.
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“Phainon.”
Phainon turned to look behind him as Mydei approached, one hand behind his back, walking towards him calmly. Shifting slightly, Phainon patted the space on the grass beside him.
Mydei sat, and for a moment, there was a small silence as Phainon stared off into the distance. Finally, Mydei nudged him gently. As he turned, Mydei removed his hand from behind him, thrusting a bouquet into Phainon’s hands.
A small smile crawled onto Phainon’s face, and he chuckled, looking down at the sunflowers in his hands.
“Sunflowers?”
“They’re your favourite, aren’t they?” Mydei shrugged, leaning against the white-haired man, staring at nothing in particular.
Phainon laughed, resting his head against Mydei’s, setting the bouquet of sunflowers aside. “Yeah. They are.” He whispered, pressing a small kiss to the top of Mydei’s head.