Wilted Roses.
Wilting Roses
A/N: To put it simply, this is a sort of continuation of Black Roses. This is the song talked about at the end: Nell - Act 5
This wasn’t anything like her. She hadn’t wanted to change this much and yet she let it happen. She saw her life spiraling down the drain each morning she washed her face and brushed her teeth. Her eyes were bloodshot and somehow her hair kept getting shorter and she could never find where it was going; it wasn’t in the trash or lying around the sink. It only took a few days for her to give up even trying to figure out what was going on. There were much more important things in her life that she had to tend to and her chopped hair and the blood-vessels constantly popping in the corners of her eyes meant nothing.
Delilah walked back to her room and saw him lying there on the bed. He looked at her. Well, as much as he could “look” at her. His lips were blue and his face paler than usual. He long limbs just hung over the edge of the bed he was closest to, laying on his side. She stood at the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself before bringing a hand up to drag through smeared mascara and eyeliner; the work of her tears from the night before. The tears were coming back as she reminisced on the fight from the earlier night. Her nails scraped down her upper arms as she let her arms fall to her sides, feet already moving towards the bed. She climbed on from the foot of the bed, dried blood catching and scraping her knee and only making her flinch. She knelt down behind him and pulled him closer to her, cradling his head in her lap.
“You’re not supposed to leave me like this… And I know you’re not dead…” Her voice cracked terribly as she ran her fingers through his hair. She was right about him not being dead. He still had a pulse and a faint breath flowed from his nostrils, but he was too weak to move anything.
“The hospital,” he croaked out, his eyes slowly rolling to look up at her. Death just lingered over him, strong enough to permeate her skin and make her heart skip a beat.
“I called. No one wants to come here,” she muttered, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead.
That’s what she thought until the bang at the door startled her out of her wits. Delilah glanced down at him and set his head back against the pillows, helping him lay back on his side again. It was just easier for him to breathe that way for some reason. His other reason was because it was more difficult for her to catch the tears that flowed from his eyes since the pillow could catch them all.
She got up to answer the door, her feet dragging along countless shades of shag carpeting. She stood on her toes to look through the peephole, opening the door once she spotted who it was.
“Mac, give him something. I don’t know what to do and the paramedics keep thinking it’s a prank call since I can’t tell them what’s wrong with him.”
“I’ll see what I can do. Just stay out here in the living room, okay? It’ll be easier for me to work like that.”
She was hesitant, but she nodded, moving towards the brown leather couch, flopping down on it. It was still warm for the morning so her skin was sticking already to the material under her. She probably should’ve put on a shirt, but there wasn’t anyone important coming over and Mac wouldn’t do anything to her. She was surprised that he hadn’t scolded her for walking around in her bra, but this wasn’t a time for that anyway.
A scream from down the hall drew her eyes to the closed bedroom door. She wanted to badly to be in there with them. She wanted to know what was going on. She needed some assurance that everything was going to be okay. Tyler couldn’t leave her like this. He wouldn’t. He knew better. They had a promise. He made her promise. He promised. He never broke a promise, at least not to her.
Another scream and then everything went silent. Too silent for her own liking. Black tears dropped onto her hand and made her realize that she was crying again. This was too much crying for anyone in her opinion.
Mac’s shaggy head resurfaced and he zipped past her out of the apartment without a word. She stared after him for a heartbeat, her gaze dragging back to the room. She popped up and ran towards the back, almost falling into the doorpost along the way. A note lay on the nightstand.
I can’t help him. He’s poisoned himself and he doesn’t want help.
Forgive him, Delilah. It may not seem like it but it was with good reason.
I’ll be by in the morning to pick you up.
Mac ♡
Delilah crumbled up the paper and tossed it across the room. She knelt down on the floor, resting her chin on the side and glancing up his body at him. She bit into her lip when his hand made its way to her, resting on top of her head.
“Why did you ask me to call the paramedics then,” she spat at him, “To give me false hope?”
He weakly gripped her hair. She could see the tears in his eyes now, flowing down his cheeks.
“I want you to have more and this is the only way I can leave you.”
“I hate you…”
“…It’ll make it easier for you to leave for a while. Start new.”
“You’re a bastard.”
“I love you, Delilah. I always will, in life and in death.”
She cringed and moved his hand from her hair, clutching it tight under her chin, “I love you, too, Tyler. I love you so much.” She cried, climbing onto the bed and curling into his side. She laid her head on his chest, ear pressed close to his heart. She could hear the faint beating and could only cry more.
He managed a kiss to the top of her head, “Mac better find you in the morning.”
“I have nowhere else to go…”
“Just don’t follow me…”
She clutched his shirt, hugging his waist as tightly as she could manage.
It was still early morning, but the sound of his heart was lulling her back to sleep. There hadn’t been much rest during the night, if any. There never really was on the off-days that they fought.
She could hear Nell’s “Act 5” playing in her head as the heartbeat filling her ears faded away.
“’Act 5’ is how I proposed my love to you. It will always be our song.”
“And the wilted roses you always give me?”
“They’re still some kind of beautiful when they’re dead.”
“What’s that have to do with me?”
“You always make them last longer than they’re supposed to, they live longer because of you.”
“But…”
“It just reminds me of what you’ve done for me. You gave me hope when I thought it was the end. Wilted roses deserve a little sunshine before it’s over, too.”
“You’re my wilted rose, then?”
“I guess I am~”
“…I’ll help you flourish as long as I can.”
A/N: To put it simply, this is a sort of continuation of Black Roses. This is the song talked about at the end: Nell - Act 5
This wasn’t anything like her. She hadn’t wanted to change this much and yet she let it happen. She saw her life spiraling down the drain each morning she washed her face and brushed her teeth. Her eyes were bloodshot and somehow her hair kept getting shorter and she could never find where it was going; it wasn’t in the trash or lying around the sink. It only took a few days for her to give up even trying to figure out what was going on. There were much more important things in her life that she had to tend to and her chopped hair and the blood-vessels constantly popping in the corners of her eyes meant nothing.
Delilah walked back to her room and saw him lying there on the bed. He looked at her. Well, as much as he could “look” at her. His lips were blue and his face paler than usual. He long limbs just hung over the edge of the bed he was closest to, laying on his side. She stood at the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself before bringing a hand up to drag through smeared mascara and eyeliner; the work of her tears from the night before. The tears were coming back as she reminisced on the fight from the earlier night. Her nails scraped down her upper arms as she let her arms fall to her sides, feet already moving towards the bed. She climbed on from the foot of the bed, dried blood catching and scraping her knee and only making her flinch. She knelt down behind him and pulled him closer to her, cradling his head in her lap.
“You’re not supposed to leave me like this… And I know you’re not dead…” Her voice cracked terribly as she ran her fingers through his hair. She was right about him not being dead. He still had a pulse and a faint breath flowed from his nostrils, but he was too weak to move anything.
“The hospital,” he croaked out, his eyes slowly rolling to look up at her. Death just lingered over him, strong enough to permeate her skin and make her heart skip a beat.
“I called. No one wants to come here,” she muttered, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead.
That’s what she thought until the bang at the door startled her out of her wits. Delilah glanced down at him and set his head back against the pillows, helping him lay back on his side again. It was just easier for him to breathe that way for some reason. His other reason was because it was more difficult for her to catch the tears that flowed from his eyes since the pillow could catch them all.
She got up to answer the door, her feet dragging along countless shades of shag carpeting. She stood on her toes to look through the peephole, opening the door once she spotted who it was.
“Mac, give him something. I don’t know what to do and the paramedics keep thinking it’s a prank call since I can’t tell them what’s wrong with him.”
“I’ll see what I can do. Just stay out here in the living room, okay? It’ll be easier for me to work like that.”
She was hesitant, but she nodded, moving towards the brown leather couch, flopping down on it. It was still warm for the morning so her skin was sticking already to the material under her. She probably should’ve put on a shirt, but there wasn’t anyone important coming over and Mac wouldn’t do anything to her. She was surprised that he hadn’t scolded her for walking around in her bra, but this wasn’t a time for that anyway.
A scream from down the hall drew her eyes to the closed bedroom door. She wanted to badly to be in there with them. She wanted to know what was going on. She needed some assurance that everything was going to be okay. Tyler couldn’t leave her like this. He wouldn’t. He knew better. They had a promise. He made her promise. He promised. He never broke a promise, at least not to her.
Another scream and then everything went silent. Too silent for her own liking. Black tears dropped onto her hand and made her realize that she was crying again. This was too much crying for anyone in her opinion.
Mac’s shaggy head resurfaced and he zipped past her out of the apartment without a word. She stared after him for a heartbeat, her gaze dragging back to the room. She popped up and ran towards the back, almost falling into the doorpost along the way. A note lay on the nightstand.
I can’t help him. He’s poisoned himself and he doesn’t want help.
Forgive him, Delilah. It may not seem like it but it was with good reason.
I’ll be by in the morning to pick you up.
Mac ♡
Delilah crumbled up the paper and tossed it across the room. She knelt down on the floor, resting her chin on the side and glancing up his body at him. She bit into her lip when his hand made its way to her, resting on top of her head.
“Why did you ask me to call the paramedics then,” she spat at him, “To give me false hope?”
He weakly gripped her hair. She could see the tears in his eyes now, flowing down his cheeks.
“I want you to have more and this is the only way I can leave you.”
“I hate you…”
“…It’ll make it easier for you to leave for a while. Start new.”
“You’re a bastard.”
“I love you, Delilah. I always will, in life and in death.”
She cringed and moved his hand from her hair, clutching it tight under her chin, “I love you, too, Tyler. I love you so much.” She cried, climbing onto the bed and curling into his side. She laid her head on his chest, ear pressed close to his heart. She could hear the faint beating and could only cry more.
He managed a kiss to the top of her head, “Mac better find you in the morning.”
“I have nowhere else to go…”
“Just don’t follow me…”
She clutched his shirt, hugging his waist as tightly as she could manage.
It was still early morning, but the sound of his heart was lulling her back to sleep. There hadn’t been much rest during the night, if any. There never really was on the off-days that they fought.
She could hear Nell’s “Act 5” playing in her head as the heartbeat filling her ears faded away.
“’Act 5’ is how I proposed my love to you. It will always be our song.”
“And the wilted roses you always give me?”
“They’re still some kind of beautiful when they’re dead.”
“What’s that have to do with me?”
“You always make them last longer than they’re supposed to, they live longer because of you.”
“But…”
“It just reminds me of what you’ve done for me. You gave me hope when I thought it was the end. Wilted roses deserve a little sunshine before it’s over, too.”
“You’re my wilted rose, then?”
“I guess I am~”
“…I’ll help you flourish as long as I can.”