Dead love in my hands (Troy Otto story/ Fear the walking dead/ ftwd)

By Troy 6

I woke up very early. I lay there staring at the ceiling for a couple of minutes, then I looked at Della. She was still sound asleep. On a sober head, her words yesterday seemed more plausible to me. Maybe she's right? Maybe I shouldn't trust Aron and let him get closer? I just feel like if I give him a chance, I can turn a blind eye to the fact that he and she were... Oh, no, I can't. As soon as I thought about it, my fists started to clench on their own. I drew an image of Aron in my head and imagined plunging a knife right into his heart. Oh, how I wanted this... I wonder how long it will take he to turn? After 75 minutes, considering the height and age. Maybe a little longer... In fact, I could take him away from the ranch and put a bullet in his forehead there. Even if I were suspected, it is unlikely that anyone would openly accuse me. Although, of course, I don't think Della would have believed in such a happy accident....She would have left. No, I need to be a good guy so as not to ruin our relationship, they are already in a dangerous position...

I shook my head to banish thoughts of killing Aron. For some reason, I didn't want to get up at all. But I did it anyway. I went to the bathroom first. After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I looked at myself in the mirror. In fact, I haven't done this for a long time... it was strange to see my face. I looked a little tired and unshaven. So I decided to improve my appearance by at least getting rid of the stubble.

Returning to the bedroom, I looked around, put on a shirt and went to the window, it was open. The light morning freshness cheered me up. The ranch was still asleep, the grounds empty except for the guards.

I wanted to drink coffee. I decided to cook it for Della and me, bring it to her right in bed, it would be a great romantic gesture. The thought of romance made me shudder a little. Who am I turning into...? But it serves me right... Well, I have to show her that I can not only shoot, kill and drag her into the basement, otherwise she will stop loving me. I have to be careful. And I kind of want that. Yes, I definitely want to, it's just that I'm somehow unaccustomed to the role of someone who gives flowers and all that... By the way, it would be nice to get flowers again somewhere. Actually, there's an old lady at the ranch who grows something. At least she's done it before. Mrs. Clayton. She and her husband lived in the van they came here in many years ago.

I left the house and went to them. After a couple of minutes, I reached my goal and wondered: should I wake them up and ask politely or just pick flowers...? Oh, what have I come to?! I'm going to ask, seriously? But I can only pick a few flowers, and I don't want a few flowers, I want a whole bouquet. I want the best for her. And so I knock on the door... What a jerk I'll look like. I crossed my arms over my chest and rolled my eyes in anticipation. Mr. Clayton opened the door for me a couple of minutes later.

"Troy? Something happened?"  The old man adjusted his glasses in surprise.

"Good morning. Yes... I mean, no, I just need to ask your wife something."

"Vanessa," her husband called, "come here, please."

Mrs. Clayton soon appeared, looking sleepy. She greeted me and looked at me a little embarrassed.

"Could you let me pick your flowers?"

"What?" the lady was surprised.

"You see, I want to do something nice for Adaline. And it seemed to me that..."

"Oh, Troy, you don't have to go on, of course, of course. I am so glad that someone finally paid attention to my beautiful roses! I just wanted to trim them today! Do you need it right now?"

"I wish," I shrugged.

"Okay, dear, I'm just going to get the scissors," she smiled.

After a couple of moments, a full-fledged bouquet appeared in my hands.