ZB1/ZeroBaseOne Oneshots

Blue | Hao x Matthew

[TW- discussions of suicide]

Matthew once believed there was nothing more beautiful than flowers in the springtime. Having always despised the cold, the end of winter not only marked the beginning of a fresh start, but also provided a chance to escape from that bitter loneliness that trapped him inside all season long. He'd take a walk in the warm breeze, let it dance along his pale skin, and swoop through his brown locks. Each flower was individual, each creation incomprehensible. His mother especially loved the blue ones, and quite possibly, it was her voice he heard calling out to him that day. Reach for it- and so he did, but as his fingers dared to grace its delicate petals, it was another hand that took that plunge.

That was the day Matthew learned there was indeed something more beautiful than flowers in the springtime.

Falling in love is the same as planting a seed in your heart. The more you cherish it, the more it grows, until it's unable to be contained in such a small part of your existence. It'll burst through the walls of your heart, stake claim of your body, your chest will fill with blooming flowers, the roots will snake down your limbs. It's like a parasite, and it'll eventually grow thorns, that spike you awake, just in time to see your lover lying in bed beside you. 

The room was filled with quiet whimpers, falling out of his mouth unconsciously as he slept. His body was messily sprawled under the sheets, face nuzzled into the pillow, his hand still resting over Matthew's chest. 

Matthew smiles. Everyday with Hao was perfect...because Hao was perfect. 

Not everyone is lucky enough to touch their lover with their own two hands. Matthew wondered if it would ever feel real. Hao was there, right in front of him. His soft skin living only for Matthew's touch. He ran his fingers along his shoulders and down his spine, his mind as clouded as the hot steam in the air. He raked his hands through Hao's dark hair, scrunching up the suds that slipped between his fingers. Under his hands, Hao was always under his hands. 

The kettle whistled, its high pitched squeal echoing through the kitchen, bouncing off of the boring gray walls. Matthew watched his lover pour out the water, and dip the tea bag exactly fifteen times, just as Matthew liked it. They drank their tea together on the sofa, Matthew's back pressed against Hao's chest. They talked about what they wanted to do today. Visit the library, maybe take a walk, in the end, it wasn't much of a decision. They both knew exactly what they wanted, to live a life solely focused on each other. So they stayed home. 

There was a lot of laughter, and an equal amount of smiles. They went through movies, snacks, and even finished that puzzle they'd been slowly working on for months. 

After the sun had set, and the moon had taken its place in the sky, Matthew placed two plates of food onto the table. He took pride in it, providing for his lover, he did it in anyway he could. Although, he made a mistake, one that he only noticed when the burger was being compressed between Hao's teeth. 

Yet again, he felt a spike, but this time that thorn sliced him open, and showed him the rotten roots underneath his flesh. 

In the past, Hao's face would have scrunched up, his eyes would have squinted closed. He'd gag and spit the food right back onto the plate, screaming about how much he hated pickles.

That didn't happen tonight. Hao simply smiled, ate the whole burger, and compliment Matthew on the meal.

That night in bed, Matthew reached for the drawer, the one he kept under lock and key. The one he desperately tried to ignore, the one he wished didn't exist. Deep down he knew he'd need to face reality at some point, but had he reached that point? Despite being unsure, he still took out the letter, his eyes brimming with tears before he even opened it.