Our Bloody Flowers

Chapter 1: The hue you will take

For I thought I was dying by your perfume; 

 rise from the dead.

***

His sweet boy, he said to himself, looking at his little brown curls. It was certainly premature to call him like that since the sweet boy in question was in his thirties, but Lukas couldn't help but find a thousand and one ways of thinking about him. He had observed him for days and could easily redesign his face mentally. Usually, his inaudible steps seemed to slide on the ground and made his observation silent. Today, he was watching his prey through the window pane of his establishment. The few passers-by obstructed the view but he didn't lose a single second of these chocolate curls. At the corner of the street, his sweet boy was waiting to cross the pedestrian crossing. With his hands in the pockets of his khaki jacket, he swung very slightly back and forth. This movement was imperceptible to anyone, except for Lukas. For now, he only saw him in a three-quarters and, in time to welcome a new client, he didn't have the pleasure of clearly admiring his face. A small pout betrayed his disappointment for half a second, something he immediately arranged, him who was known for his calm and legendary neutrality. Concerned about politeness, he took care of his client and ensured thatshe was well settled. The spring sun was beating down on the window but she still sat here, arms and legs crossed, tapping her index finger on her naked biceps. He took her order, a simple cup of jasmine tea. Back behind the nicely polished counter, Lukas hastened to prepare the tea. He first chose a cup, not very expensive but that mimicked refinement to perfection. The edges of the white cup waved and recalled the back and forth of the waves. A calm false sea, a sea that didn't like to wait at the sight of her bouncing leg, the middle finger having joined the index finger on her arm.

The high-pitched ringing of the little golden bell above the front door rang. Lukas inhaled without bothering to raise his head. He knew exactly who he was dealing with. A woody smell, twigs under his hiking shoes. In a second inhalation, he felt a fragrance on his face, probably his moisturizing cream. He bet his life on it that it came from a pharmacy and that it was contained in a white tube with blue writing. Finally, despite his efforts to hide the dog hair on his clothes, he still wore a little bit of the smell. Lukas controlled the muscles of his face before welcoming him. Just a simple smile should be enough, sufficiently to show him he was banal.

"Welcome to The Dearest Deer Cafe. Would you like a drink or something to eat?" He announced warmly, his hands crossed behind his back.

"Just a coffee, please. Without sugar" He said in a monotonous tone.

Lukas tilted his head slightly and naturally his sweet boy went towards the young woman. He simply waved at her then scratched his cheek, where his stubble was. They spoke in a low voice, but he heard very well his annoyance about his seat. The sun was beating down so hard on the window that he covered his eyes with his hand. And when he tried to bear the light for a few seconds, the white of his eyes turned red and his blue irises shone with small tears that didn't flow. Lukas decided to bring their order at that moment, gently placing the cup of tea on a round plate and then the steaming coffee in front. For his sweet boy, he chose a very fragile green fir cup. He didn't serve it to any client, only to those whom he considered particular. His sweet boy fell perfectly within this category. Like all his other prey, he was special to Lukas. In a good shape, he was an ideal candidate except for his dark circles under his eyes. Lukas would have all the pleasure later to introduce him to therapeutic sedatives. It would only do him good and would tan his pale complexion. Before wishing them a good tasting, Lukas put his arm behind him and lowered the blind to the level of his eyes.