Threat

There wasn’t a funeral – no friends or family one would come, nor was anyone alive to come; it would be a waste.
She was cremated without any objection, and that was the end of it.

Tyler hadn’t said a word since he saw the fucked up message that she left two weeks ago.

He doesn’t eat.
He doesn’t sleep much.

He rarely moves from his spot on the bed, numbly staring up at the ceiling with red, puffy eyes.

She knew how to damage him in the end, and she found the perfect way to do it.

The abusive, possessive—

"Excuse me...?"

Psychotic b—

“Excuse me, sir?”

A small voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
A short boy stood in front of me, nervously twiddling his thumbs.

“Sorry…What can I help you with?”
“I wanted to buy a small bouquet of flowers for my…”

He paused for a second, like he was afraid to finish his sentence.

“For…my boyfriend…but, I don’t know exactly which types to give him…”

I took a moment to think.

“In my opinion, when it comes to relationships, you can never go wrong with carnations or roses. Red and pink are the best colors to symbolize a deep love or admiration for someone.”

He seemed a little relieved by my response.

“I…I think he’ll like the carnations more. A pink one and a red one. Those are his favorite colors…”

He let out a small smile.
I couldn’t help but smile back.

“Alright.”

I led him to the individual flower rack and let him choose the ones he wanted.
He paid, thanked me, and left with a larger smile than earlier.

And luckily, it was time to close up shop.

I took off my apron and hung it on the rack before taking out my phone.

Me: “I’m about to come home. What do you want to eat?”

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, knowing that I wouldn’t get an answer anytime soon.

I glanced towards the carnations, remembering the boy from earlier and getting an idea.

And maybe it will help.

| x | x | x |

He was asleep, curled up and hugging the pillow close – just as I thought.

I placed the three carnations onto the space next to him, pressing a kiss to his forehead shortly afterwards.
I was about to leave until a hand grabbed a hold of my own.

His eyes were open, but he didn’t look at me.
He only tugged on my hand, not saying a word.

I moved the flowers out of the way before lying down next to him.
He didn’t hesitate to hug me, burying his face into my chest.

I ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his back as he let out a couple of sobs.

“It’s not your fault, Tyler. I know I’ve been repeating that for the past two weeks, but you need to understand that. She made her decision, and she was solely responsible for that decision.”

“It is my fault, Michael…”

A quiet, choked up voice – the first time he’d spoken in the past two weeks.

“Yeah…She is responsible for ending her own life…but…I’m the one who pushed her into doing so…”
“Pushed her how?! What did you—”

“By falling in love with you…”

I froze, trying to register what I just heard.

“I fell in love with you…I stopped loving her…and that was the end…It was my fault.”

I moved away slightly, tilting his head up to look at me.

“Do…Do you regret loving me?”

He bit down on his lip, eyes refusing to meet mine.

“Answer me, Tyler…!”
He let out another sob, covering his face with his hands.

“It’s my fault, Michael…! It’s my fault…!”

Marcia has him so fucked up…

I pulled him close again, pressing a kiss to his lips.
He stared at me in shock when I pulled away.

“Regardless of what you feel for me, I will always be here for you, and I will always love you, Tyler.”

I played with his hair again, and he stopped crying – like usual.
He brought his gaze down, nervously playing with the bottom of my shirt.

“Can…Can you kiss me again?”
And I wasted no time in doing so.

“It’s not your fault, Tyler. I promise you, it’s not.”

He rested his forehead against my chest, still playing with the bottom of my shirt.

“…Thank you for the carnations…and…”

A pause.

“…I'm sorry…”