"What are you doing," he grinned, "resting against me like that. Are you trying to provoke me?" The bed creaked as he stretched his arm over your body and rested it on your chest. It was surprisingly comfortable.
"No," you sputtered, "Not at all." He moved his arm back to his side.
"Awe, okay, fine." God damnit, that asshole has to make you feel guilty. "Do you want breakfast, Flower?" He grinned. Wrinkles formed in the same places as before. "Bacon and eggs sound okay?"
"N-no, no, I can make myself breakfast."
Why're you stuttering so much? Are you scared?
"I can't let you do that, Flower!" He shook his head dramatically, still holding a smile on his face. "I'm your sunshine, right? A flower needs their sunshine for everything!" The man wanted to ephorize you. He desired to control you. All of you, yet you, as tenacious as a bull, continued to resist.
"I don't want breakfast, then. I'm not hungry, anyways."
"Hmph," he frowned, and furrowed his messy brows, "so mean." He brushed his hands through his hair, and slowly sat up in bed. You shivered. You know what's going to happen. How do you stop it? How do you stop your death?
