Incomplete Kisses (HELLUVA BOSS STOLASXBLITZO)

Incomplete Kisses

Red iridescent sun rays protrude through the small opening of the burgundy, grand curtains hanging in Stolas's room. The warm light softly graces the feathers upon his chest, awakening him from his slumber.

Begrudgingly, he sits upon the side of his bed with a heaving sigh. Although the doctor cleared him for discharge yesterday, his body still trembles from the horrid acts Striker committed.

Remembering how the angelic knife pierced through his skin like teeth ripping through meat. It withers at the memory of the thick rope Striker curled around his neck. How he pulled it taut, keeping air barely out of reach.

"Mornings shouldn't begin so dull," Stolas's voice bleeds of rare defeat. Slowly, he begins to stand up, wincing as his weight bears onto his legs.

"Butler," he calls meekly. " I need some assistance this morning please,"

Instantly, the head butler bursts through the door. Behind him four others follow in a single-file line. Like snobby aristocrats they keep their eyes closed and heads tilted up. In one swift motion they surround Stolas like piranhas and lift him high above their heads. Moving unanimously they turn to the door and make way towards the royal bath.

As they march through the large hall Stolas gazes at the gifts filling the walkway to the brim. He squints at each tag hoping to see a familiar name.

"So many gifts," he says cheerfully. "I haven't seen this many since my wedding,"

"Yes," the head butler responds promptly, "many are from suitors who have learned of your reacquired bachelors status. They all wish you a great recovery,"

"That's well, um, nice," Stolas mutters, he leans over hoping he hadn't missed a gift.

"Any from," Stolas pauses, mulling over the following words.

"Non-suitor suitors?" a slight voice crack shatters any seclusion he attempted to convey.

"If you're referring to Mr. Blitz he has not made any attempts to see you,"

Disappointed, Stolas embraces the blanket of silence that falls upon them. He refuses to speak as they enter the large Victorian bath. He doesn't flinch as they place him on the marble floor, nor does he acknowledge them as they leave.

The doors take an eternity to close behind them. He watches in earnest hoping they'll move faster. He notes how they're not akin to the door of his hospital room. It was a plain white surface, which is an uncommon color in a place such as hell. Yet the trim of these doors are engraved with ancient writing, words that haven't been spoken in over a millenia. Stolas has always found the writing distracts from the lovely design, but why fight Stella on such unimportant matters.

Click.

A deep sigh bursts from the birds' beak.

"Oh blitzy, blitzy, blitzy," he calls longingly, walking towards the rose-scented bath.

The steam gracefully dances into soft tendrils, swirling through the air as he approaches. His racing heart yearns for the soothing embrace of the tranquil water hoping it will ease the loneliness that has plagued him for years, and calm his festering desires.

"What is it with us? Is there an us?" he questions, submerging into the warm water.

Naturally, his back presses against the tub as his eyes close, allowing his body to succumb to relaxation. Moments pass before Stolas gracefully lifts his hand from the water and delicately twirls it in the air. This motion causes the water to simmer, with each ripple a bubble lifts from the tub, and dances through the air.

"Blitz," he sighs softly. As the bubbles sway and turn they showcase different memories Stolas possesses.

"You're batshit crazy!!" Stolas jumps up, shocked by Blitz's laughter echoing in the room. Could he be here? Right now?