The Man With The Eyes Of The Ocean (discontinued)

Even the prettiest roses wilt and die

Tw: Attempted suicide and mentions of self-harm

Every rose is beautiful when it first blossoms. Day by day it's beautiful color fades, turning to black. Even the prettiest rose wilts and dies becoming a distant memory of the beauty it once was.

~

The sound of a wine bottle breaking was the only thing that could be heard from the Joestar's house. Dark, purple liquid slowly absorbs into the cream-colored carpet, Caesar didn't care. Right now he didn't care about anything, it was a little obvious from the way he looked. His strawberry blond hair was tangled, around his Paris green eyes were dark red circles; tear stains covering his cheeks. The appearance he once cared about dearly was ruined and it didn't matter to him, right now at least. 

He felt so empty and worthless right now, a feeling he hadn't felt in years. 

Joseph had cheated on him. With a woman. 

Caesar didn't know what he did wrong. Maybe he wasn't good enough, maybe he was too old for Joseph. Whatever it was made him feel like shit. Never in his life did he think that Joseph would do something that low. What made it worse was the fact that Caesar only blamed himself rather than Joseph. He just couldn't do.

He picked up the broken glass, cleaning it up. He thought about piercing his arm with it, probably in his vein. At least it would end his misery. He wanted to curl up and die.

Why did love feel like this? Is this love?

Caesar clenched his heart. Pain ran through it, it hurt, physically. He hated it. He rolled up his sleeve taking a piece of the glass and holding it up to a vein. He thought about holding the sharp piece to his artery, he would really die from that.

Why was he doing all this to himself for a man?

The idea ran through his brain like a rushing river, clouding his thoughts. Any rational ideas were gone and all that was left intrusive and harmful. For a second, he believed them.

No one was home but he and the wine bottles that he now called friends, so he could do what he wanted. He thought about how his death should go. Maybe he wanted his artery stabbed out or he could drink alcohol and swallow pills. Those were really his only option at the moment.

He gripped the sharp piece of glass tightly breaking it his hand. Dark crimson gushed from his hand, dripping into the carpet. He drops the shards of glass on the table next to him and pulled a fresh one off it.

He looked at it, letting the light reflect it. Another tear fell from his face as he pressed the shard to his heart. He put pressure on his skin, it pierced his skin causing his punctured wound to bleed slightly.

It pierced halfway before it stopped. He felt a hand wrapped tightly around his wrist. He looked up at the source of the hand and jumped a little. Joseph.

"Caesar, what the hell! Why-"

"Why did you do that to me, Mio Amore?"

Did Joseph even deserve to be called that anymore?

"What...?"

"am not good enough anymore?"

Why was he blaming himself?

"Caesar, what are you-"

"Why with a woman? Am I not as pretty as her?"

Did he not love him?

"Do you not love me anymore?"

"Caesar...I'm sorry..."

Sorry?

"Sorry...? Fucking sorry?! You cheated on me with a woman and betrayed my trust and the damn thing you can say is sorry? What the hell did I do to you to deserve this?! You asked me to marry you and...I-I accepted because I loved and still love you and I thought you did too! But apparently, every word you said at that church was an empty lie!"

Joseph just sat there, unable to find the right words for what just happened. Caesar, a well put together person, was breaking down in front of him.

He hated himself so much.