(warning mentions of death (suicide) and depression)
❤️PATTON POV❤️
Speed-walking down the special street, I check my watch on my wrist as i slow my pace stopping at a random house, grabbing some flowers in the front from someones garden-and continue my pace. Finally I arrive my destination, satisfied. Smiling, handing over the flowers.
(Three weeks later)
💙LOGAN POV💙
It should be around this time.
This time, I've had time from my grading students paperwork, to catch my theif.
Someone's been taking my roses from the front of my yard. Sitting in my livingroom, watching through my front window, the roses in clear view. So they have a pattern, every Saturday, they take s few of my roses to give to their girlfriend or something.
Watching a few teens past, birds land in my yard. Honey bees. Stray cats.
Ok nothing so dad- wait.
A man around my age, with glasses and a cardigan tied around his sholders, walks by -wait- Stopping and grabbing a couple flowers.
"Ah ha!" I stand and open my front door walking up to him. I walk over and place my hands on my hips angrily.
"Excuse me? Have you been stealing my flowers these past few weeks sir?" I ask, looking at him. He turns and looks at me, brown hair, glasses the same frame as mine, a few freckles, and a tad shorter then I am.
"Y-yes.."he says in a hushed nervous tone making my stomach feel...odd.
"Well I don't care how much you love your girlfriend, but I suggest you just go buy some at the nearest market." I try sounding serious and stern.
"I don't have a girl friend. I get them.. on my way... t-to the graveyard down the street...", He seems to be tearing up.
"I'm patton.. My son virgil passed away. He and his boyfriend, Roman, killed themselves out of depression." He answers in a hushed tone.
I feel a strange heavy feeling on my chest as my own eyes water a bit, seeing him upset like this.
"I'm so sorry. I'm Logan. Would you like some tea after we come back from the grave yard?" I ask, placing a hand on his sholder.
"We...?" He asks.
"I will accompany you. We can chat over each after words." I answer.
"That would be nice."
My schedule changed for the better, I'd give no tests or homework on Friday at school, so I'd have nothing to do the next day. So every Saturday, I'd go with Patton to the graveyard with roses I grew, and we've gotten to know eachother better..
But I can't help but get this strange feeling in my stomach everytime he smiles about a memory he tells me about. Such as the time he took his son to ihop or when he met his sons boyfriend..
I think I'm in love...?
As a poet once said:
"Love simply cannot be explained
Only Embraced."
