may shatter on impact (tronnor)

45. Flowers Like Blood & Oliver Perez

Hugs are handed out like candy on Halloween night, kisses are forced upon red cheeks and hair is ruffled in and out of place like the wind has torn through it, backs are hit "gently" and I am two moments away from screaming.

Tyde's face has grown pale and his eyes are too big, the room we find ourselves in too small, the walls cracked and the red flowers painted across the glass windows no longer the subject of strange, youthful curiosity that they had been so many years ago, and more the subject of terror, of memories, of blood.

"Tyde," I whisper, staring at the petals and the green stem reaching from behind an old couch that smells of old, the leaves covering the view of the road, the the red flashing into and out of the blood on the tiles, blinking terror.

"I - I know," he whispers back.

"Troye!" someone shouts. I jump, fingers tightening on the back of the couch, Tyde steadying me though he jumped too. "How've you been?"

I turned to face my youngest cousin, Oliver Perez, hands shaking and face paler than it should be. "I-I've been okay. Y-you?"

He frowns at the stutter, at the gaps between letters, at the places where there must be something more but I can't bring myself to say it. "...I've been fine. School is so stressful though," he complains, groaning, and sitting down between Tyde and I. "I can not believe that we're already preparing for finals, it's like the third month of school or something stupid like that. How the hell did you survive sixth grade? I hate it already."

Tyde laughs awkwardly. "It sucks, but you'll get through it."

"I guess. How's school going for you two? You just moved didn't you? Because of what your boyfriend did?" he turns to me as his words slowly gather into a mess of thoughts in my brain. "It's a shame, I always liked him. You know, you should dye your hair. Something outrageous, pink or blue or something. That'd be cool. It could almost be like a tribute to Tyler or something. Like a, uh, what do you call it? Memorial? But like in your hair! Or you could get a tattoo of like...his face? That'd be stupid nevermind. His...Oh! A gun or something, that'd represent him, right? You - "

His mouth is moving but I can't hear him, there's sound, there's the blood rushing through my head, there's my heartbeat, but I can't hear him talk, his words are too loud -

He won't shut up, he won't stop talking, oh my God, Oliver, Tyde, who has his eyes squeezed shut like Caroline Ford's were when -

Oh my God, and here I was thinking things might be okay, that things could be solved with a kiss from a boy with a voice like cotton candy, sweet and gentle, and shut up, shut up, shut -

Oliver, please stop.