February is the season of love as June is such for flowers

Memories

It kept him awake. It hurt his soul and broke his heart slowly as he fell into darkness. He wasn't dying, far from it, living his life as Guardian, God of the world and protector of a land he used the rule over, used to watch grow as he lead it through the high's and low's.

Yet he couldn't let go of the recollections currently giving him a headache. They weren't that of heavy crowns and stupid advisors. Wasn't that of grief as his parents lay lifeless on marble floors with only a corrupt demon the only thing left he could call family. 

They were of caves and flowers, peace and war, life and death. A game whispered in the lines of times far hidden in the past. Time had buried his rememberance of it, made the few images that remained hazy. 

All he could see was green, yellow, red. So much red. Red eyes, red banners, red clothes, red surfaces, red people, red blood.

Red poppies.

 Red, red, red.  It was if the colour was taunting him. He couldn't escape it. It hurt his head and caused a ringing in his ears.

Then he saw it again, in a new setting, new people, old too. He saw more crimson as it swept through the world and consumed everyone, as a curse this time. A soft urge to kill, getting stonger and stronger until he was a bull and it was the only thing he could see.

He couldn't hear anything. Alone, victorious, at a loss.

Through it all, however, he saw blonde hair and felt soft touches.

And when he woke up, saw it was a figment of his imagination derrivedfrom reality; from fate's history books, he knew it was Jimmy. Annoyingly perfect Jimmy  who he wanted, who he had, who he would never hold again.

He died with the though hot on his mind.

Now he was a god. Lovely......

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Tf is this plotline? Idk it's 20:49 ish, im slightly delusional, slightly tired and sick.