Sanders Sides Oneshots That I Might Make Into Books.

Flowers

Some Roman-centric stuff for his B-Day. And yes it is still his birthday here.

Ships: None

TW: Angsty and sad and kind of unsympathetic everyone but Roman

🌟Roman's POV🌟

I was sitting in the Imagination's flower garden. Some of them were larger than I was, a nod to Alice in Wonderland, but most were their normal size. I was enjoying the dandelions that surrounded me, thinking of how bubbly and happy they seemed, thinking about how it might be to be one of them. To be thought to grant wishes.

"You should get rid of the dandelions, Roman," Logan said, not looking up from his book, as he walked through the garden. "They're weeds, and you can do it easily."

The words hurt, though I didn't know why. They seemed to lower a weight onto my shoulders, and I somehow found it difficult to snap my fingers. I did though, and the seemingly carefree flowers were gone to the wind. "Right, of course," I said, half hoping Logan would notice the sadness in my voice.

My limbs felt looser, and my chest lighter, but I didn't pay any ayyention to it.

He didn't, and I sighed. I shouldn't have expected it from him. He never was good with emotion anyway. Cheer up, Roman. Logan was right, and in any case, you still have your roses.

I nodded slightly to my thought and looked over to the large section I had devoted to them. They were of every color, and they meant so much to me. I loved how romantic they were, how they came in all sorts of colors and sizes. I even liked the thorns, because they meant that the rose could protect itself from smaller things.

I was too lost in my own thoughts to notice Patton coming in barefoot and accidentally stepped on one of the roses until he cried out.

"Padre! Are you quite alright?" I asked as I hastily got up and went to his side.

"I'm alright kiddo. The rose here just pricked me a bit. Maybe you should think about getting rid of the thorns."

But that's what makes them so amazing. Reluctantly, I raised my hand and snapped, getting rid of every thorn in the garden. My wrists started to ache, but I paid no mind. The roses seemed so much less alive now, just as I felt.

Patton left after picking a few tigerlilys for the house, and I went back to sitting under my tree. I distracted myself from the hurt by focusing on the sunflowers right by me. Y'know, they always looked to the sun. And when they couldn't find that, they turned their heads to each other.

"Hey, Princey," Virgil said as he stepped through the rows of flowers. "Just came to tell ya that dinner'll be ready in a few minutes."

"Alright," I said, trying to sound like I usually did as I stood up.

"I fell like those sunflowers are watching me. It's weird."

"You are standing right in front of where they see the sun," I pointed out.

"Still. Maybe you should do something about them."

And there it was. Another person telling me about how harmful my flowers were. But, I had to do something, right? I had to make everyone happy. So, I raised my hand and with a snap of my fingers, the sunflowers were replaced by raspberry bushes.

"There. I've done something about them."

"Good. I'll see you inside."

But he wouldn't, because as I, almost reluctantly, moved my eyes to the sun he left behind, and blood flowed down my wrists from the pricks of thorns, a gust of wind blew through the garden. And I floated away on the wind, pieces separating, as my body went to find another place to plant itself.