Chapter Text
Crimson liquid splurted out violently, covering his entire hand wet, dripping down his wrist and chin. It was uncomfortable. The tightness in his chest, the feeling that made him crave to vomit. Suffocating and delirious. He wished it wasn't what he thought it to be.
He shifted his hand away from his face, dread filling to his core as soon as he saw what was in his palm. His wishes denied him so.
It was cruel for the gods to grant him this illness—this misfortune. They granted him a blessing, yet they decide now to bestow a curse. A curse of irony, for such a beautiful flower to be at the palm of his hand. Sickeningly beautiful forget-me-not petals, adorned with his scarlet blood.
Splatters of blood laced his vision. Everywhere he looked was nothing but filled with it. Bright red like the fire that took his home, red like how it covered the ones he’d lost then, red like everything he saw that day.
He shook his head. Again and again.
"No..."
His voice came out raspy, hoarse and dry; as if the stems and flowers that grew and outstretched and twisted up all in his lungs weren't obvious enough for his indicator to not to speak. Shock lacing every word, he cried, "This can't be happening…"