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𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐒, 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗌 ( 𝗌𝖺𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆 — 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 ) tw: mentions of death
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Spring was in full bloom over at the Safe Haven. The sun sat up high, ruling over the cloudless blue sky while a slight breeze wafted through the air. The smell of char from lunch lingered faintly; it provided a weird sense of nostalgia for a life they don't remember living.
Everyone soaked up the warm rays and engaged in cheerful conversation, basking in the glory of freedom. Meanwhile, Thomas stood frozen as the unrelenting sun beat down on him, stinging the backsides of his arms.
He felt the pounding of his heart against his chest, the way he subconsciously held his breath. They were just as evident every single time his solemn eyes found your name etched into the slab of rock. It taunted him relentlessly — whispering the word "failure" over and over until it was all he could hear.
They might have escaped from the claws of WICKED, but he was never able to escape from his own mind.
Even when he was asleep — which was already incredibly rare — he was plagued with nightmares of that day. The booming noise of the gunshot reverberated in his head. Flashing images of the color draining from your face haunted him. The nights he didn't wake up screaming were usually the nights he'd just stay awake.
He wanted to scream until he lost his voice. He wanted to cry until he ran out of tears.
And so, while everyone else was occupied with their own activities, he slipped away into the clearing that he was starting to know like the back of his hand. He sat in the grass and sobbed until his eyes were red and swollen, until his throat felt sore.
Suddenly, he paused. In the corner of his eye he could see white daisies softly swaying with the wind. Unlike the stone he stared at earlier, the flowers sang out a small melody, enticing him to close his eyes for a second just to listen.
