Work Text:
Every day I watered my plant, pathetically supported by a cracked container, soiled with reddish stains of unknown nature. I think it was the only pleasurable experience of my life, corroded by the 'extranatural' presence of a handsome white-haired man. "Thank you for being present in my life," I think I'd say to him. I must be really sexy, because at this very moment, he's watching me from my window.
I could open the door and welcome him, I'm intrigued. Before I can do anything, I hear a noise—it seems like there's a present at the door!
I open it with great pleasure. The hallway lights are flickering, so all I can see is his pale smile, his burning heterochromic eyes peering into the depths of my soul with inconsistent obsession, leaving me helpless in the moment and reading me as if I were mere pages of books? I'll stop thinking nonsense.
A potted plant, methodically similar to mine, looks like it came from a cloning technique. I'll leave it's disconcerting presence next to the plant I already own. I suspect it's a diabolical, dark work. I should do some testing…
I only watered the plant that previously belonged to me. I don't know why, but the strangeness I feel about the gift I received gives me the impression that it shouldn't be here. It's okay, it's okay... Better recite the mantra to myself.
The days have passed. I want to dine next to the psychedelic smile that has watched me all this time. It consumes me, excites me. I love the way you look at me, like you want me dead. Or like I'm meat. Thank you, my Cheshire cat.
Your plant, or my plant, let's say, is growing more than usual, no matter the rain, no matter the sun. Something is wrong, I know, I know...
On the other hand, I see my plant weakening. Even with sources of water and sunlight, the best of the best, nothing is changing. No matter how hard I try. I think I forgot to do something? Oh, it's rotting... Now, I need to forget all the love I have for it? I'm sorry...
Not much time. Very little time has passed, but it no longer fits inside the house. What are you? A wizard, a sorcerer? A static smile, beautiful but putrid?
I'm happy that your love is real, but very sad that it's not fake. Thank you, you can feed on all the energy I supposedly possess. A depleted energy that doesn't nourish or fulfill. Do you like that, dear Cheshire?
Now, your plant covers every room in my house. It has swallowed the furniture and my plant, which is now gushing blood. Sharp stitches and an impaling sensation invade my body, forcing a high-pitched, bitter scream I shouldn't be able to muster. It hurts, oh my... Pathetic, Fyodor, you are pathetic. Now, delicious strawberry juice feeds both plants, but the dead plant will never rise again. The one that remains alive is even more satisfied.
"Fyodor, you are succulent. You feed my soul with this grotesque flavor your body leaves on my tongue. You taste like raw meat, or the inside of my mouth?
You are delicious, Fyodor. Моя любовь... (My love)
Love, Nikolai. Or your Cheshire smile?"