Bloody petals fell from John’s lips after a nasty cough. The man scowled, looking at the crimson violet petal. Hanahaki disease, John has longed for you since you joined that gang. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to ever make a move. He had a woman—Abigail and a son with her.

It wasn’t the best relationship and John was no father…yet he owed them, even as a deadbeat. But now he desired someone else, you. Just thinking if you made him smile, your voice, your face, your mannerism, just clicked with him.

“Fuck…” John mumbled stomping on the violet petal. If he didn’t confess, his lungs would fill with beautiful violets suffocating him and thus killing him. An ugly line beautiful way to go. Yet John didn’t want to die just yet.