For the past month, his best friend has been getting bouquets of flowers.

Well, more like one type of flower.

Blue roses.

They almost looked fake, with the vibrant color, but he knew how real they are. It's hard to perfect the silkiness of a real rose petal using fabric.

And near the stem, the blue turned into a deep violet.

His best friend didn't understand exactly why. He just assumed that was the way the flowers grew.

But he knew.

He knew all too well.

~<•>~

"Oh, that must be the flowers." His best friend said one day.

"Flowers?" He asked.

He knew of the flowers.

He sent them, after all.

"Yeah, apparently some 'secret admirer' found out my address and has been sending me a bouquet of blue roses every day at around this time." His best friend explained. "It's kind of creepy if I'm honest."

"Hey, at least they haven't kidnapped you."

"True."

As the day went on, the more flower heads were being thrown up, some even had thorny stems.

Those were not fun.

Just kill me already, godammit.

~<•>~

Every bouquet had the same card on it. Every card said the same thing;

I hope you love these, you are the reason these exist. :)
I love you! <3
~Your secret admirer

His best friend didn't understand it at first.

What are we, twelve?

But over time, he grew accustomed to the flowers.

And when they stopped arriving, something told him that something was incredibly wrong.

Especially since Dream stopped talking to him that same day.

He wouldn't answer his phone, discord, Reddit, nothing.

No one could get ahold of him, not just George.

~<•>~

He fell.

He fainted.

He was throwing up more than one flower at a time now.

Today it was three at a time.

He had to get Darryl to help him.

"Are you okay?" The older male asked after helping him choke out the last flower.

"Just.....peachy....." He coughed out, blood spilling out of his mouth.

"Everyone is asking where you are," Darryl said, looking at the hundreds of notifications on his friend's phone. "George especially."

"T-text him....t-tell him that I...." He choked out more flowers before he could finish his sentence, not that he needed to.

Darryl nodded, texting George the final text he'll probably get from his best friends contact.

~<•>~

Clay Block: I hope you really liked those flowers
They were just for you, you know
You're the cause of them, you know
You might get one last bouquet
He loves you very much, you know
So much so that he happily died for you
Blue roses
He managed to get through it himself for the past....2 months, I think?

George 💙: Who is this?
Where's Clay?

Clay Block: Bad
He's currently passed out
I don't know how much longer he'll manage
Love can be a bitch sometimes

George 💙: This can't be Bad
He doesn't curse

Clay Block: It is Bad though
I'm just being honest
Do you love him?
Dream?
Like, honestly?

George 💙: Idk
Why?

Clay Block: He'll die if you don't say
Please George
He needs you

~<•>~

"Hello?" The older male answered.

"Where is he!? Where's Clay!?"

The older male frowned, looking back at the dirty blonde. He was currently awake, but neither knew how long.

"He's right here."

"Is he okay!?"

The dirty blonde chuckled, blood spurting out of his mouth in the process. "Heh, n-no."

"Dream!?"

"Y-yeah...?" He muttered out.

"What's happening?"

"Well, right now I'm trying not to vomit a bouquet of flowers and blood."

"WHAT!?"

The younger male smiled fondly at the phone. "I love you, George. I mean it."

"DREAM!?"

Flowers.

"CLAY!?"

Blood.

"I-I love you, okay!?"

Light.

"Clay, please..."

Darkness.

"Don't leave me..."

Numb.

"Not again..."

And then,

Nothing.

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