"painting flowers" (matsuno chifuyu)

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song: "Painting Flowers" by All Time Low

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FLOWER LEGEND:

-> (dwarf) sunflowers: Adoration

-> red chrysanthemums: I love you

-> white camellias: You're Adorable

-> daisies: Innocence, Loyal love, I'll never tell

-> (red) tulips: Passion, declaration of love

-> forget-me-nots: True love memories, Do not forget me

-> honeysuckles: Bonds of love

-> white jasmine: Sweet love, Amiability

-> willows: Sadness

-> rosemary: Remembrance

-> pink carnation: I'll never forget you

-> pink camellias: Longing For You

-> blue salvias: I think of you

-> sakuras (cherry blossoms): Time of renewal, Optimism

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yellow sunflowers, red chrysanthemums, white camellias; there was a time when they were a flustering gift he shyly handed to you once the canvas dried.

chifuyu knew nothing about flower language, other than the little pieces he picked up from you. now chifuyu knew more about daisies than he ever yearned to know.

and chifuyu was no artist— he's still not. none of his tulips could compare to the absolute beauty of your forget-me-nots. but you always accepted them with a beaming smile, telling him you loved them. he'd paint you an everlasting meadow if it meant you'd be happy.

he was even more flustered when he saw them hanging on your walls. he didn't think they deserved to be on the wall, but your room grew into a garden; a wide array of his affections.

about a year ago, the flowers withered at the stem. the paint had dried in the tube, and chifuyu's canvas remained blank. he no longer noticed the honeysuckles and white jasmine on his walk to work, but the willows and rosemary. a single pink carnation was left on your doorstep, a promise to never forget you.

and it was a promise he kept well, whether he intended to or not.

chifuyu sighs, laying the paintbrush on the table. another pink camellia.

damn.

chifuyu never wanted to know so many flower names, but now that he does, they've all faded from his mind. only one name springs forward in his mind when he thinks of flowers; yours.

pink camellias are all he's been able to come up with as of late, the dozens of pink petaled canvases strewn across his room a reminder of his dry conscience. he counts the petals like the lovestruck fool.

they love me,

they love me not,

they love me?

...they love me not.

what a stupid game, he thinks.

chifuyu closes his eyes and rests his hand over them. he's tired of staring at bleeding petals, he misses the garden. how pathetic he must be for holding on so desperately.

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