14 chapitres Terminé Evan always tried to hide his flowers. It was pointless, almost everyone had them, but their flowers were bright yellows and pinks that made them look like walking flower bouquets. His were dark colors - blacks, reds, browns, and purples - that made him look morbid and intimidating. And his flowers stood for the worst things too. While Jared was covered in bright pink flowers that meant heartbreak, Evan had a huge, red, zinnia on the back of his neck that meant depression, dark purple irises on his arms, legs, and face that meant bruises, and black flowers lining his wrists meaning self harm. There were almost 47 black flowers. He hated it, being marked as the kid who was supposed to fall in love with a depressed psychopath. It didn't help that his anxiety would spike at the worst possible times, causing him to trip and stutter at the worst times.
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Connor didn't choose to be born with depression, a feeling that started at the back of his neck and just seemed to grow. He didn't choose to be covered in burns and bruises from his abusive father, and he didn't choose to have a bright blue flower on the palm of his hand that symbolized anxiety. He wanted to end it all - the pain, the humiliation, the fucking flower that would grow at the worst possible times. He hated how everything that happened to him would affect his soulmate. Only he deserved to feel that pain.
