Blaue Blume

Forget Me Not

It had been a late Autumn afternoon, just on the cusp of December. 

If it was up to Augustine, he probably would've stayed home that night, binging shitty 90's slashers while gorging candies. But, as Halloween had drawn nearer, Winnie had been bombarded with dozens of invitations to parties - and therefore, Augustine had to be dragged along. 

At first, he'd protested - parties weren't really his thing. After all, he wouldn't want to just show up to one where he wasn't liked. (And unfortunately for him, any party Winnie went to often turned out to be so.) But when Winnie had pouted, brows slightly furrowed, his eyes glimmering, Augustine couldn't refuse. 

Even though he'd agreed weeks ago, he couldn't avoid the hot, sinking feeling in his stomach as he peered into the bathroom mirror.

Augustine had settled for something simple - a zombie, basic as you can get. He'd smeared some of his Mom’s dark eyeshadow underneath his eyes, making them appear more sunken, and wore some old, pretty worn clothes that had probably been hung onto for a few too many years. Black stripes were drawn across his face, messy stitches haphazardly etched onto his cheeks and forehead, smudging the grayish green facepaint he'd garishly rubbed all over his face. 

Even without the shitty makeup and sickly yellow lighting of the bathroom, he still felt half dead already. 

Augustine sighed. He turned to Winnie, who was nudged against his side, trying to artfully splatter the fake blood from the vampire kit he'd bought at Spirit Halloween on his mouth. 

Of course, Winnie had chosen to be a vampire, and of course, he was way too enthusiastic about this party. Winnie had always surprisingly had a taste for horror and the macabre, so obviously, Halloween had to be his favorite holiday. 

"Ugh, this blood looks so fake," Winnie murmured, narrowing his eyes. 

His face was plastered with white facepaint, his ash blonde curls pinned back as he applied makeup. The fake fangs he'd shoved in his mouth poked at his soft lips, which were pulled into a grimace.

Since it was Winnie, he couldn't have simply gone to Party City and bought a cheap vampire costume. The stupid idiot had learned to sew, and stitched together a custom costume made of his Father's old suit. Then, for about the past hour, Winnie had been adjusting makeup and jewelry borrowed from his Mother.

"I can't do this! Augh, Auggie, can you help me out here?" Winnie groaned. 

"I'm no good with makeup," Augustine said, nervously chewing his lip. "Really. You're definitely way better with it than me." 

But still, he took the brush Winnie had offered him.

"Shush, just do it! We need to hurry so we're not late!" 

"Eehhh," Augustine swallowed. 

Winnie had turned to him, his eyes and face all soft in the yellow light. Up this close, he could even see the little beauty marks and moles on his face underneath the thick coat of facepaint. It almost pissed him off how he still managed to look good in this lighting. 

Tentatively, he pressed the brush to Winnie's lip, messily rubbing the red into his soft, pale skin. 

"Can you stay still?" He muttered through gritted teeth, though he knew it was just because his hand was shaking.

Why the hell am I so nervous? He swallowed again, lip quivering. It's just this idiot. Yeah. 

Augustine held up Winnie's head by the chin, carefully painting a stroke of blood ebbing down his lips. He flicked the brush to make it splatter.