Threat

Walk into the store.
Act normal.
Do not bring too much attention to yourself.

I looked around, quietly observing the various shapes and sizes and the reds, blues, and yellows.

A bright circle of blood red caught my eye – a perfectly decorated twelve-rose bouquet.

I smiled slightly and gingerly picked it up, bringing it to the cashier.

“Buying Marcia another bouquet, Tyler?”

I froze, hearing the familiar voice.
Regardless, I looked up and smiled.

“Yeah, I think this one is perfect for her today.”

You think when you smile towards your closest friend you’d get a smile in return.

Not with Michael.

He took the bouquet from me and scanned it before typing on the keyboard, glancing towards me every other second.

He finally stopped and grabbed a hold of my wrist, not hesitating to pull the sleeve of my sweater up.

“No new marks today?”
“Geez, no ‘Hi, how is my best friend today?’ or ‘Wassup, Bi Boy’?”

I chuckled nervously with my remark – Michael didn’t break his straight face.
I pulled my wrist from his grip and pulled the sleeve back down.

He only gave me a sad glance before reading out the price – “Twenty-two dollars.”

I handed him the money, watching him put it away before printing out the receipt and placing it into the bouquet.
He glanced at my neck, glaring at what he saw before he handed me the bouquet.

Idiot! You forgot to cover up the mark!

“I’m fine, Michael.”
“Every time you say that, I find it harder and harder to believe.”

I bit down on my lip before placing the bouquet onto the countertop and jumping over said countertop.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

I held my arms open with a small pout on my lips.

“Tyler…”

I made a grabby motion with my hands, pouting even more.

He was trying to stifle a laugh.

“Come on, Micah….”
“Fine…!”

He picked me up and swung me around – one of his signature hugs.
He put me down before ruffling my hair with a genuine smile on his face.

“I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“Alright.”

I jumped over the countertop again before Michael handed me the bouquet.

I was about to leave, but he grabbed my wrist again, stopping me to place a kiss onto my cheek.

“Be careful…okay?”
I nodded before taking my leave.

I kept glancing down at the bouquet, feeling more excited with each look.

She’s going to love them, I know it!

I finally made it home, unlocking the front door and opening it before stepping inside.

“Marcia? Are you home?”

A small silence before a couple of sobs.

I frowned, knowing that she was in the bedroom; I didn’t hesitate to make my way there.
She was on the bed, hugging her knees to her chest, grabbing tightly to a knife in her hand.

“You were going to leave me, weren’t you…?”

She looked up, revealing the tears that were stained with mascara running down her cheeks.
She wiped them away – red dots and lines on her left wrist.

“I wasn’t going to leave you, sweetie. I left to buy you some flowers.”
I showed her the bouquet with a small smile.

“Aren’t they lovely?”
“You’re a liar…!”

“I’m not lying.”
“Then what is that mark on your neck?!”

“You gave it to me, last night.”
“How can you be sure?!”

She stood up from the bed and walked towards me, the knife still in hand.

“Marcia, please be reasonable.”
She slapped the bouquet out of my hands.

“Marcia—”
She struck me across the face twice before pointing the knife towards me.

“You wouldn’t leave me…because you love me…”
I nodded in agreement.

She flashed a sly grin; it disappeared just as quick.

“…and you know what I would do to you…or to myself if you do…”

I bit down on my lip and nodded again.
She leant in, pressing her lips against mine.

“I’m sorry about the flowers. They are lovely.”
She dropped the knife before kissing me again, pulling me close to her.

“I have to bandage your wrist, Marcia.”
“I was worried. They’re small. I’ll be fine for now.”

“You promised that you would stop hurting yourself.”
“So did you.”

She pressed her thumb against the side of my stomach, knowing the marks that resided there.
A tear rolled down my cheek as she did so.

“Stop that…it hurts.”
“I can make it hurt way more. You know that, baby boy.”

She’s capable of happiness…and misery.
She’s capable of love…and hate.

She’s capable of life…and death.

She’s well aware of all of this, and…

“…Yeah. I know.”

…I’m just as aware of what I have gotten myself into.