Dearest, You Said 》BNHA

Chapter 5

The wind blew through Denki's sunny blond hair. It was the usual evening breeze, roughened by his fast pace as he jogged down the sidewalk with a pot of blue flowers.

The moon shone down at him, smiling at him with her light.

Denki was late to his rendezvous with Thomas, an evening event that had taken place every night in the past two weeks. Every evening, Thomas would escape his mates at the bar to spend time with his florist friend, and they would talk about the many flowers in the shop along with some military stories Thomas had.

The florist hurriedly kicked in the shop door, startling the pilot inside.
"I'm sorry I'm late! My aunt wanted me to take these from her since she doesn't have time to tend to them."

Thomas, sitting on the edge of a table with his jacket neatly folded beside him, laughed.
"Don't give me a heart attack like that again."

Denki laughed with him. The man cut on the radio, letting the usual tunes of jazz fill the air. He went to go set the flowers down on their shelf.

"So, how are-"

He stopped.

Thomas had his eyes closed, and was swaying his head gently from side to side. His deep humming mixed in with the music.
The pilot opened his eyes, and blue irisis bore into his.

Blue sky and sunflowers.

His intimidating stare used to scare the florist, but now-

His cool blue eyes were filled with sch a sweet friendliness that Denki felt weak in the knees.

"Are you okay?", Thomas asked him placidly.

Denki fought internally for words, but managed to give him a nod.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thomas watched the florist throw his bright yellow apron over his grey button-up shirt and tie his hair back with the piece of cloth in his pocket.

The past two weeks between the two of them had been enjoyable, with Denki prancing around the shop lecturing him about flowers, and Thomas standing on tables telling the florist exciting tales of being in the sky.

Every tale that was passed-

Every petal that was described-

It felt like an intimate exchange between the two in the electric atmosphere of the flower shop.

Thomas was a man that mostly kept to himself. Occasionally he would have fun with his fellow pilots, but nothing felt quite like this.
He'd never felt like this before.

Originally, he would come to the shop simply for the atmosphere, but with every day that passed, he realized he was coming to the shop less for the flowers and music and more for the florist himself.

He was a bright sun.

A bright sun that contrasted the glowing moon outside.

Thomas abruptly stood up to shut off the radio, earning a glare from Denki.

"Wha-", the florist started to protest, but Thomas silenced him with a finger to his lips.
The pilot untied the cloth from the other man's hair and returned it to the apron's pocket.

"Close up early tonight", Thomas ordered him, "We're heading out for a walk. A little change. I need to talk to you."

Denki cocked his head in confusion, but shrugged and began to untie his apron.

After Thomas grabbed his jacket and Denki turned out the lights, the two men ventured out onto the night street.
The pilot beckoned for the florist to follow him, and they began to walk down the dark street.

The moon shone brighter than all the stars.

Yet it still couldn't outshine the florist walking ahead of him.
It seemed the shop's energy went with him wherever he went.

He was his own sun. His own beam of light.

A light Thomas may never see again.

For some odd reason, it hurt. Not the usual pain of saying goodbye to a friend. No, this felt deeper.

"So", Denki said, walking a few feet ahead of him, "What did you need to talk about?"

"Turn around", Thomas said, and protruded a square object from the pocket of his jacket.

A shuttering noise.

Thomas took the photo from the camera. He would have to develop it back at the base.

"What the hell was that?", Denki asked, trying to snatch the photo out of Thomas' hand. The pilot held it out of reach.

"I'm going to need this to remember you", he said plainly.

Denki paused.
"Remember...", his voice trailed off.

Thomas put the camera and photo back into his pocket.

"You're leaving."

The way Denki said it sent a strike of pain through Thomas' heart. The florist, usually so bold and eccentric, sounded genuinely venerable.

"We leave tomorrow morning for England", the pilot solemnly confirmed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Denki knew.

He knew Thomas would leave eventually.

But his knowing didn't make the fact hurt any less.

Thomas, a British fighter pilot who Denki was once absolutely terrified of, was leaving. Thomas Fitzgerald, a kind man who took the time out of his day to enjoy a pleasant atmosphere with him, was leaving.

Thomas was leaving.

The chilly air felt like cold knives stabbing into his pores.

Denki could feel his knees grow weaker beneath him.
It was similar to when he revealed his name, only this time for a different reason.

The florist grabbed the street light, attempting to keep his balance. He looked down, hoping Thomas couldn't see the tears streaking down his reddening face.

"I think I'm sick", Denki muttered.

He had fallen in love with a man.

"Sit down, please", Thomas ushered, grabbing Denki's arm and leading him down to the sidewalk.

The two men sat in silence.

A heart-crushing silence that echoed through Denki's entire being.

"I'm sorry", the pilot quietly said.

"Don't be sorry. It's your duty."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

God, he was sick.

This was a mistake. An absolute bloody mistake.

Falling in love with the florist was a mistake.

"I'm sorry", Thomas found himself saying as the two sat on the edge of the street.

"Don't be sorry. It's your duty."

Denki didn't get it.

Thomas was sorry for falling in love with him. For becoming too attached.

"I don't want this to be... our last meeting. I wanted it to be happy and pleasant like it always was", Thomas sighed, "But it was inevitable."

He gazed over as Denki stood up and held his hand out.
The florist's hand was shaking, but the look in his eye was bold.

"This doesn't have to be an unhappy ending."